


Taped

by AngelofDarkness1605



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 05:51:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 36,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9370922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelofDarkness1605/pseuds/AngelofDarkness1605
Summary: When an intimate video of Mr. Gold appears all over social media, Belle is determined to support the no longer untouchable but still very private landlord.





	1. Chapter 1

Focused on Mr. Gold rather than the food or even the book in front of her as she sits alone at Granny's Diner, Belle wishes that she could think of a way to approach the landlord. But no matter how intriguing and handsome she finds him, she knows only too well that he's utterly distant and untouchable, almost to the point of hostility.

She has never even talked to him, but she just _knows_ that she can have better conversations with him than with anyone else in town... that his lips and his hair must be as soft as they look. Behind of the facade of the cruel landlord and pawnbroker, not even all that far, is a loving and sensitive man – she is certain of it.

If only he would talk to her or even look at her.

"Oh my God, look at _this_ ," Ruby exclaims, almost dropping the plate of lasagna in her hands when she throws herself in the seat next to hers while glancing in Mr. Gold's direction.

Before Belle can say anything, her friend offers her one of the earpieces of her phone and shoves the screen almost against her nose. A video is playing there, an old one by the looks of it. It features a young man and woman in bed together, in a state of complete undress.

"Quick, get me ready again," the woman on the screen says, laughing when the man moves his hand between her legs. "He'll be home soon and it's not as if _he..._ "

"What the hell?!" Belle mutters, looking up at her friend who apparently wants her to watch a sex tape of sorts.

Ruby merely looks back at her phone meaningfully. Following her gaze, Belle watches how the man hops out of bed and disappears out of sight, the sound of a door opening and closing vaguely audible. Mere seconds after he has left, another man walks into the line of sight of the camera – a strangely familiar man.

It takes her a few seconds, but then Belle recognizes this much younger and cheerful version of the long-haired and lithe man she knows as well as she supposes she can know anyone who is as extremely private and distant as the landlord is.

The young Mr. Gold on the screen stands dead in his tracks when he sees the woman lying naked on the bed, the way his eyes hungrily take in the sight of her obvious despite the grainy low quality format of the video.

"Well, are you just going to stand there?!" the woman says rather harshly. "Make yourself useful, husband."

Belatedly realizing that the Mr. Gold in his video doesn't rely on his cane, Belle's mouth falls open when she discovers that he must have been _married_ at one point in his life... and that this younger version is eagerly taking off all his clothes on screen.

She is vaguely aware that she probably shouldn't be watching this, but something low in her body _clenches_ when he bares himself entirely. Unable to tear her eyes off a very naked and very excited Mr. Gold as he gets onto the bed to join his wife, she is oblivious to Ruby's snide remarks about his appearance.

The woman – his _wife –_ pulls him on top of her, locking her ankles behind his back as he kisses her with a passion which makes Belle wish that _she_ were with him. She's oblivious that an increasing number of people in the diner is muttering and staring at the screens of their phones just like she is herself.

She isn't aware either that she can't hold back a gasp when, after being guided downwards rather forcefully, young Mr. Gold begins kissing his way down his wife's body with almost tangible enthusiasm.

"Let's skip this part, it's boring," Ruby says, reminding her that her friend is still there in the first place.

"What do you mean, 'boring'?" Belle asks, not wanting to miss a single second.

"He gets down on her for like fifteen minutes."

" _Fifteen_ minutes?" she cries out, reeling at the discovery that there are actually men out there who are willing to do that – that the object of her unrequited affections and desire is in fact such a man. " _How_ is that _boring_?!"

"He doesn't exactly get the job done," Ruby shrugs, much to her friend's bewilderment.

Before she can object, the video is fast-forwarded, which still provides a _very_ intriguing and stimulating visual of Mr. Gold pleasuring a woman with his mouth. It's beyond her why said woman doesn't seem to enjoy his efforts, or even appreciate them - or _him,_ for that matter.

By the time the video is playing at regular speed again, the woman is practically rolling her eyes at the camera. Her husband continues his ministrations with never ceasing focus and energy, rubbing his lower half against the mattress to seek the friction he clearly craves.

Breathing heavily, Belle watches how he only slows down when his wife begins to moan so loudly and unconvincingly that it's rather ridiculous. He doesn't realize though that his efforts haven't had the desired effect at all, smiling up at her lovingly in a way which breaks the librarian's heart.

"Put that to good use," the woman all but commands when he crawls back up her body, stroking his hard length so roughly that both the young Mr. Gold and Belle wince in response.

"So you're letting me..." he begins to ask, endearingly hopeful.

"Do I really need to spell it out for you?!"

Vaguely aware of the moisture gathering between her thighs even as she wonders why on earth the woman whom apparently married him is so horrible to him, Belle bites her lip to the point of bleeding when the man on the screen fumbles between their bodies before moving artlessly between the woman's thighs.

"He's not even inside of me," the woman giggles out loud, no longer even pretending to be talking to her husband.

Belle feels sick when she recalls the other man who was with Mr. Gold's wife... the man who must still be around, filming all this. The landlord – although she has no idea whether he already had that occupation back then – isn't aware though, clearly finding pleasure in the woman's embrace, no matter how cold and unaffectionate it is.

Merely imagining Mr. Gold moving on top of _her_ like this, gets Belle in a rather similar state. He is clearly too far gone to concern himself with any technique, but she has never seen anything more tempting than him as he grinds himself to completion, his face pressed against his wife's neck as he holds her tightly.

Swallowing heavily, Belle can tell the exact moment that he finds his release, going still before groaning what must be the woman's name as he spends himself against her. Thinking that this video can't affect her more than it already has, she is proven wrong when he cuddles against her.

Pressing a lingering kiss against her cheek, he softly thanks her with heartbreaking tenderness, before asking if there's something she'd like him to do for her. His wife shakes her head in response, prompting him to pull the sheets of the bed over them.

Once he has settled himself at her side, his face burrowed into her arm, the woman is rolling her eyes at the camera again, barely able to contain her laughter as he falls asleep at her side. The other man isn't so successful as he returns to the bedroom, giggling with mirth.

The screen goes black after that, but Belle can't take her eyes off it for quite some time as she processes what she just saw, tears in her eyes at this betrayal of the young Mr. Gold. She has often wondered why he is so harsh and utterly solitary; she is quite certain that she now knows why.

Suddenly aware of the heavy silence around her, she recalls that she is in fact still at Granny's Diner, and so is the landlord himself... and a considerable amount of townspeople. All of them, without exception, have phones in their hands and are staring at Mr. Gold.

Feeling like she is about to throw up, Belle realizes that everyone must have seen exactly the same video as she just did, and that most of them – probably no one at all – will be remotely understanding.

Mr. Gold isn't handling a phone and probably hasn't seen for himself yet that such a video of him is publicly available, but one glance at his face tells her that he knows exactly what has happened.

The silence in the diner is almost deafening... until Ruby begins to giggle. Before Belle can tell her friend to stop this inappropriate reaction, just about every patron other than Mr. Gold and herself burst into explosive laughter almost simultaneously.

Blindly withdrawing a bill from his wallet and dropping it on the table, the landlord stands up abruptly, leaving his only half eaten meal behind. He tries to appear composed and unaffected, almost succeeding for a few seconds. But before he has reached the door to fled the diner, his head is bowed, his long hair shielding his expression as he moves as quickly as she supposes he still can.

Hardly daring to imagine what Mr. Gold might be going through right now, she decides that no one deserve this... especially not a man who asks his wife's permission and thanks her in their marital bed, let alone try to pleasure her as selflessly as he did.

Slamming her payment for her own uneaten meal on her own table, Belle stands up and rushes after the landlord.


	2. Chapter 2

"Mr. Gold? I know you are in here," Belle shouts for the third time.

She's hardly surprised that there's still no reaction, but it only makes her more worried. Right after the painfully private video appeared, she tried to make the landlord see that the townspeople's reaction to that horrible tape of him says a lot more about them than it does about him.

More than that, she attempted to make him promise not to let them get the better of him, but he dismissed her with tears streaming down his face as he fled to his car.

"I just want to talk to you, to see how you are doing."

That was almost a week ago. He hasn't returned any of her messages and hasn't been seen in town since, and she hasn't heard of anyone who has interacted with him one way or another. The sheriff doesn't care much either way.

"Please let me in?"

Mr. Gold is in pain, he's in hiding, that much is clear. But at this point the question is whether he has withdrawn from public life... or from life altogether.

Increasingly aware that she might as well be too late, she checks the exterior of his house for a spare key. Somewhat knowing the nature of the landlord, it doesn't surprise her that she can't find one… and knowing her own nature, it doesn't surprise her either that a particular idea springs to her mind to get into his house after all.

"Mr. Gold, if you don't give any sign of life right now, I'm going to smash a window and let myself in to check on you."

Belle waits twenty seconds, thirty, but there's still no reaction. Bracing herself, she picks the nearest decorative stone from his garden and slams it into the glass of what appears to be the kitchen window. Hitting with the stone until there's enough space for her to crawl through, she carefully makes her way into his house for the first time.

She wishes that she could see his home in happier circumstances, to hear Mr. Gold tell about all the antiquities which are crammed onto just about every surface. But obviously she doesn't, can't allow herself to be distracted by all those fascinating treasures.

There's no sign of him on the first floor, no sign of any life whatsoever. Belle rushes upstairs, not surprised when she doesn't get any response to her continued exclamations.

Her attention is caught by a large room where it's dark despite the brightly shining sun outside. She steps towards it, her eyes slowly adjusting to the lack of light as she is met by a rather unpleasant smell.

Her heart hammering in her chest, she makes out an unmade bed, moldy plates lying around on the floor. The scent becomes stronger here and she gasps when she spots a motionless shape half covered by the sheets on the bed.

"Mr. Gold?" she whispers, tentatively stepping into the room.

Again, no reaction.

"Mr. Gold!"

She takes her phone in her hand even as she tells herself that there might no longer be a point in alerting paramedics. She yanks the curtains open to let some much needed light into the room, before rushing to his side.

Her breath coming in shallow, rapid gasps of air, there is once again no reaction whatsoever from the landlord, even though the sun shines now directly in his awfully pale face.

"Please, Mr. Gold, wake up!" Inwardly begging not to be too late, she shakes at his shoulders. " _Please!_ "

He gives no sign of life for another few horrible seconds, but then the landlord's bloodshot eyes open slowly. He closes them almost immediately, no doubt because of the light, but at least she knows now that he's still alive.

"Miss French?" he croaks, shielding his eyes with a trembling hand as he opens them again, blinking furiously.

"Yes, it's me," she says, her relief increasing further as he recognizes her.

His look of surprise turns into one of absolute horror however, and he turns his back towards her.

"I know you probably don't want me in your home, but I think you really need my help, Mr. Gold."

"You of all people shouldn't see me like this."

"Well, I have, and I am," she says, squaring her shoulders. "I want to help you, Mr. Gold, and I'm not going anywhere. How long since you've last eaten?"

"I... don't know."

"How long since you've last had something to drink?"

"I don't know," he mutters again, gesturing weakly at the empty glass on the nightstand.

To her horror, there are empty strips of pills next to the glass. He may almost look more dead than alive, but the fact that he's conscious and manages to converse with her like this convinces her that he hasn't taken too much pills to be actually harmed by them.

"Let's get some food and liquids into you then," she says, recalling the slightly crumpled granola bars and an almost entirely full bottle of iced tea in her bag.

Taking the almost entirely clean glass, and sweeping the strips of sleeping pills into her bag while she's at it, Belle pours the iced tea into it.

"Can you sit up?" she asks, already knowing the answer when she looks back at him.

Belle helps him get up and lean back against the pillow which she places between his back and the headboard of his bed - only for him to sag halfway down immediately.

Figuring that this isn't going to improve for as long as he hasn't had anything to drink and eat, she brings the glass to his lips. In doing so, she belatedly notices that there's thick stubble on his jaws and cheeks, clearly also a result of his personal neglect of the past week.

Reminding herself that this is far from an appropriate moment to consider that she quite likes the look of his facial hair, she places her hand against the back of his head to support it. As she tilts the glass carefully, he drinks its entire contents without spilling a single drop.

"Thank you," he whispers, already sounding a little better.

His stomach grumbles and Belle takes this as her cue to tear the wrappers off the granola bars and hand them to him. He all but wolfs them down and she dreads to think how hungry he must have been... how terrible he must have felt to leave him incapable of getting out of bed to get some food himself.

He sighs deeply in a way that's not entirely desperate when he has finished eating. Finding that her hand is still pressed against the back of his head, she is reluctant to let go of him. Although his hair is greasy and considerably more unkempt than she ever expected to see it, she can't help but enjoy touching him like this in the first place.

She dreads to think what he must have gone through in the past week for the usually so utterly impeccable man to both physically and mentally deteriorate like this.

"Why are you doing this?" he asks, his voice breaking. "Why are you helping me?!"

"Because I hate what has been done to you, Mr. Gold. Both the video itself and the way people react to it… you don't deserve any of that. Quite the opposite. I feel that I didn't get through to you when we spoke last week, right after… well. I want to do more for you. So here I am."

"It's still beyond me why you would want to help _me_. Still, I… well, I am grateful, Miss French."

His words are sincere, but the doubt in them is clear as well. She swallows heavily, not entirely surprised but shocked nonetheless that he hasn't ruled out the chance that her support is some sort of scheme to take advantage of him.

"This is exactly the same place, you know," he murmurs, his eyes closing again as he gestures at the walls surrounding them.

Looking around the master bedroom for the first time, she recognizes the room and even the large bed in the middle of it as the same one in the video. Belle can't begin to wonder what it must have been like for him to spend even one more night there, let alone the countless ones which have passed since the video was shot.

"At some point in our marriage I knew that my ex wife had an affair. But only when Jones began blackmailing me with that video a few months ago, I realized that the two of them had been together behind my back for years."

"You were blackmailed?" she asks, beginning to see that his situation is yet worse than she thought.

"Yes. My ex wife died years ago, but her... paramour… well, he obviously did not. The two of them were always after my money, but especially Jones… I thought I had succeeded in removing himself from my life entirely, but then I received a letter saying…"

He shakes his head as if to rid himself of the memory. She has to suppress the urge to pull his head in her lap and wrap her arms around him, to shield him from all of this. Still, there's no doubt in her mind that this is the last thing the usually entirely untouchable landlord wants, especially now that he's in this highly vulnerable state.

"There might as well be another tape, or two more, I've got no idea what he does or doesn't have. There have been worse... intimate moments between my ex wife and I. He might as well… I tried getting to him. Ten years ago I would have gotten him, but in this day and age with internet and all that… I did everything I could, but I don't even know where he is, let alone how I can get him. I can't do it."

"You don't have to do anything on your own, Mr. Gold. Not anymore. This is a crime, and since the nature of it is out in the open now anyway, you might as well get the sheriff involved. Either way, I'd be very happy to help you with that as well. I'm sure there are useful books in the library."

The landlord looks like he's torn between disbelief, gratitude and denial, and that won't do at all. The not entirely pleasant scent of him doesn't help either.

"But first things first. What about getting you into a nicely warm and soothing bath?"


	3. Chapter 3

Gold is not quite certain whether he feels better or not now that Belle French has supported him and saw him under these deplorable conditions while doing so. Then again, he is not quite certain about anything since that awful video put his carefully created life entirely upside down.

The prospect of taking a bath right now only adds to that confusion once his addled brain has processed her suggestion. He'll probably feel better afterwards, he'll definitely _smell_ better, but she looks like she isn't going anywhere in the meantime.

If there's someone whom he truly didn't want to see the video, it's her. She's the only one in the entire town - the entire _world_ , really - who doesn't lower their eyes or even cross the street when they see him, who _smiled_ at him.

Belle is the only person whose opinion actually matters to him. And here she is, seeing him in such circumstances after also watching that thoroughly humiliating tape. It's beyond him why she is here, why she _helps_ him, why…

"Do you think you can head into the bathroom on your own?"

Indeed, why she looks like she's going to personally drag him into his bathroom… why she might as well willingly _undress_ him if he can't do that without help either.

"I don't know."

He realizes this isn't true when he can't even sit up and get out of bed on his own accord, despite the food and liquid she just helped him consume.

"Let me help you?" she asks, offering him her hand.

The worst thing is that he's not even entirely opposed to any of the prospects which his ever so pathetic mind conjures… that his entire pitiful life would be considerably better if she were to twine her hand in his hair again, touching him like no one else ever has.

"Yes, please," he says in a rather small voice, gratefully taking her hand.

Between the two of them, they get him into the bathroom, where they sit him down heavily on the edge of the bathtub. He scrunches his nose, only now that they're moving together aware of just how unpleasantly he smells.

She gets the water going, and retrieves a towel and a washcloth. She picks up his razor and gets it out of the room, apparently afraid that he might use it on himself in a destructive manner.

"I'm not entirely convinced that you won't hurt yourself," she says apologetically when she returns to the bathroom. "I'll give it back to you later."

"I understand," he murmurs, the notion of making an end to the humiliation and shame not as soothing as it might have been an hour ago.

"Do you need help undressing?"

He nods, defeated by the current limitations of his own body once more. Maybe it's a good thing that she took his razor away from him after all.

"You shouldn't have to do this," he says as she reaches for his far from pristine pajama top.

"I know I don't _have_ to do this," she says softly, helping him pull it over his head, "but I want to."

He falters again when she has revealed his undershirt, belatedly realizing that the soap she adds to the bath will shield his unpleasing body from her sight as soon as he's in there, but that he won't be able to manage that without her help.

"If it's any consolation, there is nothing I haven't seen before," she says softly, questioningly taking the edge of his undershirt between her fingertips.

"I've only aged thirty years and gained about as many pounds in the meantime," he mutters bitterly, wondering how she can possibly not be disgusted by him.

"Well, we all age, you not more quickly than others," she replies matter-of-factly, relieving him of his undershirt as he doesn't object. "Besides, there isn't much left of those pounds."

Glancing down his by now bare chest, the landlord realizes only then just how much weight he has lost in the past week. Still, he still looks as weak and unappealing as he's always felt.

"I really don't think there's anything you should be ashamed of, you know," she adds softly, her words distracting him to the extent that he subconsciously helps her get him out of his pajama bottoms. "Both because of what you did in that video and because of the way you look."

She makes a point of closing her eyes and covering them with her hands when he's left wearing nothing but his boxer shorts. Telling himself that this can't get any worse than it already is and that Belle French wouldn't hurt someone already down, not even him, he gets out of the last layer protecting his modesty without her help.

Tentatively holding on to her arm which she blindly extends to him, he's relieved to find that he also has enough strength left to get his legs over the side of the tub and to lower himself into it. He can't hold back a groan of relief when he slides into the pleasantly hot and soapy water.

Gold knows only too well that he won't be able to wash away the shame and mortification, but at least he can make himself a bit more presentable. Then again, he's in no shape to even wash himself.

He clears his throat to indicate that he's as decent as he can be like this, carefully looking at her face when she opens her eyes again and focuses them on him. Although he's as vulnerable, as defenseless as he's been in a long time, there's still not a single sign of repulsion or speculation in her eyes.

"Is this the shampoo you use?" she asks, picking up a bottle and prompting him to nod in agreement. "Would you like me to…"

She gestures at his hair and he nods gratefully, sighing in something close to temporary contentment when she tilts his head back to wet his locks with tentative hands. When she works up a lather and begins to wash his hair with gentle, soothing strokes, he can't help but groan in appreciation once more.

It's a sheer novelty to be touched like this, something he never expected to experience himself. But now that he is finding out what it's like to receive such tender ministrations, he can't imagine a somewhat bearable life without them.

Still, even in this soap and warmth induced haze, he doesn't forget that his life is hardly bearable with or without Belle in it. He might as well enjoy this while it lasts. There's something so utterly relaxing about her touches that he finds it for once not entirely impossible to simply live in the moment.

"There were sleeping pills on your nightstand," she remarks, her fingers digging slightly into his scalp, all but massaging him. "How worried should I be about you, Mr. Gold?"

"You shouldn't have to trouble yourself on my account at all, Miss French. But regarding this particular topic, I wasn't trying to… I only used them to be able to fall asleep."

"Well, I do worry. I _like_ you, Mr. Gold. I don't want any harm to come to you. So I'm very relieved to hear that you didn't attempt to take your life."

His planned retort that people wouldn't miss him if he were to do that, that they'd only be happy to be rid of him, is stuck on his lips when she casually expresses her fondness for him.

His next instinct, to question her exclamation and wonder how she can possibly like _him_ , also disappears when she rinses the soap out of his hair with so much care and tenderness that it brings tears to his eyes.

Hoping that she'll mistake the liquid for droplets of water from the bath, he tries to suppress the way his body begins to shiver despite the warmth of the water and her nearness. Or rather, he supposes that the seemingly contradictory reaction is _caused_ by it, his body wholly unfamiliar to such comfort and relaxation.

"Shall I wash the rest of you, too? Obviously I won't touch any part you don't want me to touch, and of course I won't wash you at all if you don't want me to."

"I'd be very grateful if you are willing to wash any part of me at all, Miss French."

He's terrified - and convinced - that he'll accidentally evoke any disgust he hasn't caused in her yet if she'll touch yet more of him like this. And yet, he craves her attentions so much that even that prospect doesn't deter him entirely.

Still, all those fears are diminished when she runs a damp washcloth over his left arm with such gentleness that tears start dripping down his face. There's no hiding it any longer, but at the same time it doesn't seem to matter at all.

Indeed, he should feel yet worse as she washes him almost like he is a child, running the washcloth over and under his arms. But as she bathes him like he was convinced no one ever would, he feels in fact better than he has in a long, long time.

It seems that, somehow, something good has come out of this horrible ordeal… that, all things considered, all that misery is almost _worth_ being with her like this for a precious hour or so.

He raises his leg to rest it on the edge of the tub without any hesitance when she questioningly gestures for him to do so. Only when she stares at his ankle, almost dropping the washcloth, it dawns on him what he has accidentally shown her.

Gold means to drag his leg back beneath the protective layer of bubbles, but she stops him with a mere fingertip. The touch is featherlight, very easy to break away from, but for once he finds that he doesn't want to.

"Does it hurt?" she whispers, as if she _cares_.

"Not more than anything else," he mutters, wondering how there can be so much kindness and acceptance in one person.

"I'm so sorry," she breathes, bewildering him yet more than she's done so far by leaning over and briefly pressing her soft lips against the gnawed and utterly undeserving flesh.

She continues washing him like nothing out of the ordinary has happened, as if it's in fact only normal for her to run the cloth all the way up to his inner thighs. All the while, she keeps a careful eye on his face, wordlessly telling him that one sign from him will stop her movements immediately.

He can only hope that she'll go on like this forever, to give him something so innocent and yet so utterly intimate, something he enjoys more than anything his ex wife and he ever shared.

Her touch calms even the loudest reminder of his own patheticness within his own head in a way nothing else ever has. In fact, he feels less vulnerable than he has in a long time when she slides the washcloth along the inside of his other thigh.

She once again withdraws before reaching truly inappropriate grounds, for which he is very grateful. Still, a treacherous part of him is wondering what it might be like for her to touch him _everywhere_.

He roughly dismisses that thought, but not the awareness that _she_ wouldn't leave him broken.

"Are you feeling better?" she asks softly when she has finished her self-appointed task.

"I am, yes," he replies, genuinely feeling somewhat human again. "Thank you so much, Miss French. I can't tell you how much this means to me."

"How about you do the last part of this yourself," she asks, smiling a little at him as she hands him the washcloth. "After that, we can find out if you can dry and dress yourself."

He nods in agreement, actually feeling ready for that. It's like he has been rejuvenated, almost as if he has been born again.

"I can make you some soup afterwards? You can eat it on your own if you wish, but I'd be very happy to accompany you during the meal. Whatever you prefer."

"I…"

Gold falters, telling himself that he couldn't possibly ask any more of her. But the librarian looks at him as if she would _like_ to spend more time with him.

"It would be very kind of you to assist me yet further, Miss French," he says, to his surprise finding himself tentatively smiling back at her. "I would also very much appreciate your company during the meal."


	4. Chapter 4

Gold steadies his slightly trembling hand as he positions the razor against his throat. Only a few days ago, he might as well have used it to end his miserable life for once and for all. He didn't really see the point of continuing his empty existence now that he has lost his power and became the laughing stock of the entire town.

Instead, he shaves himself as carefully as he can, making himself as presentable to Miss French as possible. It's completely beyond him why she hasn't rejoiced in his demise like all other townspeople, but he can't help but be grateful that she insists on visiting him each and every single day.

Exchanging his pajamas for one of his regular suits when he is done, one glance in the mirror reminds him that he can't think of a single reason why she's so supportive of him, even if it hadn't been for that utterly humiliating video.

No matter what is driving her, thanks to her he has been able to sleep throughout the past few nights. Even during the day, more and more hours pass in which he isn't crippled with horror over the released tape and any other very private material which Jones may have gathered.

There's a kindness about her which lets him trust her, even though her company and acceptance seems too good to be true. He can't deny that he _likes_ her, in a way he didn't know he still could.

He heads downstairs, even his ankle seemingly not aching as much as usual at the prospect of her visit. He busies himself in the kitchen, preparing the breakfast which the two of them have planned, as they have done each day for the past two weeks or so. The corner of his lip curls upwards ever so slightly when the doorbell chimes at exactly nine o'clock; as usual, she arrives exactly at the agreed time.

"Hello, Mr. Gold," she greets him cheerfully as he opens the door, as if there's nothing she'd rather do than be right here and now, about to have breakfast with the most loathed _and_ humiliated man in town once more.

"Miss French," he welcomes her in return, his small smile lingering. "Please, come in."

A moment later she's at his breakfast table as if it's only normal for her to be there, pouring him a glass of freshly pressed orange juice. Their meals were characterized by long if companionable silences at first, but the past week or so the landlord finds it increasingly easy to converse with her about all sorts of things.

Indeed, even the eggs, bacon and buns taste better than they ever did before he had someone to share them with like this. There is however obviously no way that she's getting more out of this than free breakfasts, which he's painfully aware of.

"Miss French, you should know…" he carefully starts as they finish eating, "I'm feeling much better than I have in the past few weeks. I'll be quite all right from now on, there really is no need for you to keep visiting me, let alone so often."

It will obviously be a huge loss to be in the too large house all by himself once more, to no longer have any distraction whatsoever from his own thoughts. But it's clearer yet that she's got better things to do with her time, with her _life_ , than spend it with a person like him.

"The decision is of course yours to make Mr. Gold, but I'd love to spend more time with you. To be perfectly clear, that has nothing to do with you not allowing me to pay for any of these wonderful breakfasts."

"You… you _do_?" he asks, completely unable to keep the disbelief out his voice.

"Is it really such a strange concept that I _like_ you?" she asks, putting down her glass of juice before standing up. "That I enjoy spending time with you?"

Before he can answer her, tell her that this is a very strange notion indeed, she's right in front of him and offers him her hand. All he can do is take it, enabling her to pull him on his feet.

"Give me a hug?" she asks softly, questioningly stepping closer to him.

Nodding breathlessly and feeling rather flushed all of a sudden, Gold doesn't know whether it's a good idea or not to allow himself to experience yet more of her generosity, being yet nearer to her than he's ever been so far in the meantime.

All of his worry is gone however when she tentatively puts her arms around his back and rests her chin on his shoulder. She has always been the by far most accepting and kind person he has ever known, but there's something particularly wonderful about the way she embraces him now, without any reluctance.

To his secret delight, she continues to hold on to him rather than immediately withdrawing. Never before he has felt her gentleness as deeply as he does now, his eyes fluttering closed when she leans in to him, soft but solid.

Gold relaxes in a way he no longer thought he could when she continues to embrace him, her chest lightly brushing against his. Entirely surrounded by her warmth and softness, it strikes him how wonderful it would be to spend much more time like this.

Of course, the mere notion is utterly impossible; even Miss French doubtlessly draws a line at some point in her interaction with him. Still, for now she holds him like she _wants_ to and when he can't resist the temptation to questioningly bring his hands to her waist, she makes a sound of approval.

Almost breathless when he rests his palms above the curve of her hips very lightly and carefully, their embrace becomes better yet when she tightens her hold on him further. She practically _snuggles_ into the crook of his neck and shoulder, her lovely curls tickling his face.

It doesn't escape him that this is infinitely more pleasant than anything his ex wife and he ever shared. Belle French obviously isn't his wife, no matter much he would increasingly like that to be otherwise, but for a moment he can't help but wonder just how amazing that would be.

"You smell nice," she mutters, her voice muffled by the fabric of his suit jacket.

Gold quivers when his mind processes her words, yet further bewildered by the compliment which is in such stark contradiction to how he expected her to perceive him. It also makes him further aware that he wholly returns her sentiment, her subtle, flowery scent enveloping him in a bubble of bliss.

"So do you," he whispers, allowing himself to admit this if only for the sake of reciprocating her openness.

She makes a rather pleased sound in response rather than expressing her disgust of his appreciativeness of her nearness. The burning question how on earth that is possible disappears in his mind when she brings her hand up to his neck, starting to caress him there.

He _groans_ when her fingertips and nails brush along his nape, raising goosebumps in their wake. Horrified by the sound coming from his lips and the way he's practically trembling in her arms now, Gold forces himself to break away from her before this goes too far.

No matter how impossibly good this feels, a few more seconds or even a few more minutes of this isn't worth ruining their tentatively blossoming friendship over - nothing is. But her hands are still on his neck, gentle and _loving_ , and...

"Miss French..." he rasps, no longer certain whether he wants her to stop or not.

"Given the circumstances, you'd be very welcome to use my given name," she says, smiling up at him in a way which makes him wish for impossible things.

"If you like, Miss… _Belle_ ," he says, the sound of her first name on his lips feeling forbidden and wholly enchanting.

"I'd really like that," she replies, beaming at him.

Doubtlessly he should extend the same courtesy to her, to give her his given name so she can address him less formally as well. But if none of his personality and circumstances have driven her away so far, the name which his father bestowed on him just might make her see after all how pathetic he is exactly.

"Just so you know, I'm not asking you for the same if you're not comfortable with that," she says when he tries to decide what to tell her.

She's still stroking his bare skin and his hair, driving him to distraction. But now that she looks at him like this, young and vibrant and energetic, he's more firmly reminded than ever before that nothing good can possible come from this - quite the opposite.

"Thank you, M… Belle," he says quietly while removing himself fully from her embrace. "As always, your kindness is very much appreciated."

Her expression is unreadable when she steps away from him as well, making an end to the moment they just shared.

"Do you have any plans for today?" she asks, sitting back down on her chair.

"Not really," he murmurs, fully reminded of his current status in town while he follows her example.

"You can't keep yourself locked up in your house forever, you know."

He sighs, lowering his head, torn between accepting or challenging that notion.

"It'd be good for you to get out of this house, no matter how nice it is. You don't have to go into town if you don't want to; you live close to the woods and the air is fresher there anyway. In fact, there's a nice trail right behind your house. I've hiked there myself more than once. The terrain is quite easy and there are some beautiful views along the way. I can go with you, if you like."

No matter how tempting the offer is to spend even more time with her this way, he knows only too well that he won't be able to keep up with her. Inadvertently, he'll only show her more of his shortcomings.

"It's not good for you to be cooped up in here for so long," she continues, her expression softening further. "Besides, the trails are deserted at this time of year… and I'm really quite tired of talking walks on my own."

"If you don't mind to accompany me…"

"Of course I don't; I'd actually love to take a walk with you."

"In that case… lead the way, Belle," he says, standing up and impulsively offering her his arm, not able - not _willing_ \- to resist any longer.

"Wonderful!" she happily exclaims, linking her arm in his with an eagerness he can't wrap his head around.

No place can be more safe and comfortable than her embrace, let alone some trail in the unprotected outdoors where his bad leg - his bad _everything_ \- will restrict him, both of them, only more than usual. But if going there means being able to spend more time with her… well, that's a chance he can't let pass by.


	5. Chapter 5

Belle is rather reluctant to let go of her new best friend when they finally reach his cabin in the woods, but she's mostly relieved that they've finally reached their destination. After Mr. Gold hands her the key so she can unlock the door, she ushers him inside, towards the nearest arm chair.

Although he hasn't said so, she fears that hiking from his house to his cabin was too much of a challenge. They've been going on shorter walks like this only for a few weeks after all, and he doesn't exactly walk as easily as she does herself. Still, there's a small smile on the landlord's face when he looks up at her.

"That was a lovely walk, Belle. Although I must say that I'm rather surprised that we actually made it."

Smiling back at him, she's rather bewildered - in the best sense of the word - by how much better he's doing physically, even compared to before he locked himself up in his home. His most remarkable transformation is however of a mental nature, his smile lingering on his face even when he puts some careful pressure on his leg to test the overexerted joint.

"Let me help you with that?" she asks, gesturing at his ankle.

He nods thankfully and it warms her heart that he has grown to accept her help - and her friendship - like this.

'Yes, thank you," he murmurs, almost as if there hasn't been a time that he would have balked at the mere notion of her assisting him with anything, let alone something so personal.

Making certain that he's comfortably seated, Belle heads towards the small kitchen, where she by now knows the way as if it is her own. Filling a bucket with warm water, she reaches for the oils which they have acquired together, smiling a little when the sweet scents reach her nose before she has even opened the bottles.

Returning to the living area, she finds the landlord quickly releasing his ankle. Obviously, he's in worse discomfort than he lets on, but she takes it as a good sign that he's letting her into his homes - into his _life_ \- in the first place.

It feels only natural to kneel down at his feet and undo his shoes and socks. It's not a task she ever imagined herself performing until a few weeks ago, but the only thing that vaguely amazes her is that even now he smells rather pleasant.

Making certain not to tax the overexerted muscles any more, she carefully helps him lower his foot in the bucket of oily water. He sighs in contentment when the soothing liquid envelops him, especially when she brushes her fingers along his mangled skin.

Keeping her eyes on his face to spot any potential sign of discomfort in either the physical or emotional sense, she gradually increases the pressure on his joint, having learned by now how she can soothe his muscles.

The task in itself is not one she ever imagined herself enjoying either, but now that the usually untouchable Mr. Gold is at the receiving end of it, there are few things she'd rather do.

Of course, there _are_ things she'd rather do, all of them relating to the man in question himself, but she has reconciled herself with the unlikelihood of said things ever happening with the still so very guarded and private landlord.

Still, when he groans deep in his throat as she digs her fingers into his ankle with a little more force, Belle can't help but wonder what it would be like to hear that sound in somewhat different circumstances… what it might be like to feel more of him, especially when he makes noises like this.

As she watches him, he sprawls out on the chair in a way she previously hadn't thought the impeccable Mr. Gold ever would. His eyes are closed, the graying hair fanning around his head catching some sunlight, his limbs utterly relaxed as she massages his ankle. She'll never grow tired of seeing him like this.

At the same time, she wishes that Mr. Gold knew how utterly gorgeous he is - that he would let her show him. Still, she's only more determined to stand with him because probably no one else will ever see him like this.

Belle can probably get her hands on him like this without him getting suspicious for only so long, so she resists the temptation, barely so, to keep running her hands over him simply for the sake of it.

"That was wonderful, Belle," he sighs, his eyes fluttering open and his voice deliciously hoarse. "Thank you so much."

"It was my pleasure," she dares to say, smiling at him while wishing that she could hear him say her name like this in yet more intimate circumstances.

"I'm afraid that I won't be able to get up from here from quite some time," he says, gesturing at the chair. "Join me here, if you like?"

"I'd love to," she replies, as always both endeared and slightly exasperated by his ever so tentative and formal tone.

Still, she's happy to say the least that he invites her near him on his own accord in the first place, especially when he slowly reaches for her when she sits down next to him on the armrest of his chair.

"You can put your arm around me, if you like," she encourages him, glad when he does exactly that.

As he carefully and ever so respectfully rests his palm above her waist, she settles herself against him. He makes a soft noise of approval, which she happily echoes.

Sitting with him like this, Belle marvels at the way he puts his head against her shoulder, as much at ease with their nearness as she is herself. This is more wonderful than anything she ever shared with anyone else and she can't help but wonder what it might be like to… well, to share _more_ with him.

It doesn't help in this regard that he looks yet better than she's ever seen him. He's back to a healthy weight and their recent exercise is clearly doing him good as well. His waistcoat and suit jacket are discarded, his tie loosened, and there is not a cufflink or sleeve garter in sight.

Especially in moments like these, she can't deny that she has become only more attracted to Mr. Gold now that she has become his one and only friend. If only any hints towards him of how irresistibly attractive she finds him wouldn't all be silently, and rather uncomfortably, ignored.

And yet, at the same time, the landlord seems almost just as happy as she is herself to share the kind of nearness they currently do.

Even as she reminds herself once again not to let him know how she truly feels about him, unbidden images of the two of them come to her mind once more. She can't deny that her fantasies of him have gotten yet better than before now that she has found out what he smells like, now that she knows what it's like to hold him and be held by him in return.

No matter how often she has told herself that those fantasies should be enough, Belle can't persuade herself for even a moment that she doesn't want to plaster herself against him, bury her hands in his hair, straddle him… and a whole lot more than that.

Selfishly, she also wonders whether he might consider having a physical relationship of whatever sort with her when the treat of Jones is gone… which it won't be for a long time if the usually so very resolute landlord continues to refuse to even think about the man who blackmailed and humiliated him.

Mr. Gold snuggles a little into her, his eyes closed once more, the gesture appearing to be entirely subconscious. He makes another one of those intoxicating soft sounds of enjoyment, doubtlessly having no idea whatsoever on the effect they have on her.

When he's like this, so much less tense and guarded than usual, she's yet more eager to protect him - but she can't do that on her own. No matter how much she loathes to disturb a peaceful moment like this, the discussion they must have at some point will only get harder if they keep postponing it.

"Have you given any thought of moving against Jones?" she asks softly, wincing when the landlord freezes immediately at the mention of his adversary's name.

"Can we not talk about that for a while?" he asks, his eyes as pleading as his tone when he looks up at her.

"We could, if we feel that there's a moment in the near future where we _are_ going to discuss this. Just because you haven't heard from Jones again doesn't mean that you won't ever will. Something tells me he won't disappear simply because we want him to."

"You're right," he sighs.

"Please don't get me wrong, Mr. Gold. I won't be involved in this if you don't want me to be. I just want you to know that you don't have to do this alone, but that you in all likelihood should do _something_ , if only for your own peace of mind."

"I know. It's not that I don't appreciate your help, Belle… quite the opposite. It's just…"

"I know," she echoes when he looks helplessly at her. "I'm very aware how difficult this must be for you."

"It's not as difficult as it would have been without you," he murmurs, reaching for her hand, only to withdraw before he actually touches it.

"I think you'll be all right," she says, very carefully extending her hand to his in turn.

"You do?"

"Yes," she replies, her heart aching at the almost desperate hope in his eyes.

When he doesn't withdraw or flinch when her fingers brush against his hand, she takes it in her own, squeezing it encouragingly.

"Let's sit like this a little while longer before we talk about what we can do about Jones?" he asks, lightly grasping her hand in turn.

"That's more than fine with me."

She smiles at him, delighted that he doesn't let go of her hand. Maybe, in his own way, Mr. Gold enjoys being with her like this as much as she does herself after all.


	6. Chapter 6

Cleaning dishes in the small kitchen, there's little left of Gold's usual fondness for the written word of contracts and law books after he has spent hours considering the best approach to make certain that Jones won't ever bother him again. And, at least as importantly, that his ex wife's lover gets what he deserves for yet further ruining his life by recording and spreading that damned tape.

Still, at least Miss French - _Belle_ , as she insists he calls her, as if he could ever extend the same courtesy to her - has been with him all this time. No matter how much he appreciates her intellectual support, his gratitude for her extends far, far beyond that.

Then again, it's not as if he could ever tell her what her presence in his life truly means to him. Just a few hours ago, he had to fold his hands in his lap to prevent her from seeing what she was doing to him when she did him the incredible favor of massaging his ankle.

Even right afterwards, he couldn't resist the temptation to rest one of said hands on the exquisite softness of her waist. Which didn't exactly improve his condition even as he knew how utterly wrong it is to react to her in such a way in the first place.

"I think I've found something useful," she calls from the living area, reminding him that he can't linger in the kitchen forever.

"What did you…"

He falters when he heads back and lays his eyes on Belle again. She's lit the fire like she suggested and she put a few cushions in front of it. Now she's lounging on her stomach in front of the hearth, her skirt inching upwards, the flames casting her in a glow which makes her look yet more beautiful.

"There's something we might be able to use in that latest book I got from the library."

She looks up at him from over her shoulder with a smile on her face, not seeming to mind at all that he's drooling at her like the ancient pervert he is. Steeling himself, the landlord tells himself once again how wrong all of this is and that it will probably completely ruin their friendship - that he's got to stop this now that it isn't too late yet.

"Come and join me?" she asks, patting at the spot next to her and beaming as if there's nothing she'd rather do than lying down next to him right in front of a blazing fire.

"I…"

All he can do is do exactly as she requests, swallowing heavily when this brings him dangerously close towards her once more - especially when she reaches for his ankle and begins kneading the still slightly muscles again as if it's the most natural thing in the world.

"Belle… Miss French, I…"

Whatever he meant to say, the words are lost now that she's touching him like this again, her wonderful hands soothing both his body and his mind.

"We shouldn't be doing this," he mutters weakly.

He reaches for her hand, intending to stop it, but instead he finds himself merely covering it with his own.

"You mean that you don't want to go after Jones after all?"

"No, I mean… us," he says, gesturing at the two of them. "Like this, we shouldn't…"

"You don't want to spend time with me like this?" she asks, sounding - and looking - crestfallen.

"Well, I _do,_ but…"

"If you like being with me like this, then why don't you want…"

Gold lowers his head, not knowing how to express himself, which happens with an alarming frequency lately. For her own sake, he wants to withdraw himself from her life without having to reveal why, but it currently looks that the ever so kind and generous Belle won't let him retreat back behind his crumbling walls so easily.

"I really enjoy being with you like this," she says softly, taking his hand in her own once more, "and I would hate for it to come to an end.

"But we _can't_."

"Why not?!"

"Because I _like_ you," he brings out, seeing no other way but then to imply his feelings for her after all.

"I'm afraid I don't understand, Mr. Gold," she says carefully. "Why is that a problem?"

"I really, _really_ like you," he whispers harshly, willing her to understand.

"But that's no reason to… _Oh_."

He nods in acceptance when he all but sees her realization dawning. To his horror, tears start rolling down his cheeks.

"If you really like me, I'd say that's only reason for us to spend _more_ time together, not less. Especially because I happen to like you very much as well."

"You… but… how?!"

" _Very_ much."

The almost tangibly hopeful way she looks at him goes entirely against anything he ever expected. Particularly so because she seems to be saying that not only she doesn't mind that he likes her so much more than he should, but also that those feelings actually aren't as one-sided as he was convinced they are.

But that can't possibly be true, can it?!

"How _can_ you like me?!" he blurts out, even the slightest possibility that his feelings for her are returned after all beyond comprehension.

"How can I not?" she cries out, somehow sounding equally bewildered.

"You've seen that video!" he exclaims. If he hadn't gotten to know her so well, he'd think that she's ridiculing him. "You _know_ that I'm a pathetic excuse of a husband and a lover… that I'm a pathetic excuse of a _man_."

"You're none of those things! Your wife is the one who was a 'pathetic excuse', not you!"

"But…"

"I've seen that video, yes! And while I did, I wished it was _me_ you were with, doing those things!"

"You… you did?!"

He falters completely, looking at her in almost overwhelming disbelief.

"Is it really that hard to believe?" she asks softly.

"Belle, what are you saying?!"

"Even before I got to know you… I _liked_ you. When I saw that video… I wanted you to do those things with _me_. To be _intimate_ with you. And now that we're spending time together like this… I've fallen in love with you, Mr. Gold. I would have said something, if I hadn't thought that there was no chance whatsoever of you feeling the same way about me. Is there any…"

Breathing heavily and his heart beating rapidly in his chest, Gold isn't thinking straight any longer when her words dawn on him. There's _no way_ that she loves him like he loves her, but at the same time that's precisely what she just seems to have said.

Until now, Gold hasn't acknowledged to even himself that he loves her, having been so entirely convinced that she would never return such sentiments. But now that there's a chance she feels the same way about him, he's overtaken by his affection and desire for her.

Suddenly, he's very much aware of just how close she is to him, how utterly _lovely_ she is. Of course, he has always known the latter, but he has never allowed himself to truly consider this. Now he can't prevent himself from doing so any longer, his eyes zeroing in on her lips.

Belle is looking intently at him as well, a gentle smile on her face, while she slowly reaches for him. She halts when her fingers are inches away from his cheek. Realizing that she's silently asking his permission, the landlord nods quickly, a sudden lump in his throat.

Then she's caressing his face and she's looking at his lips as well and… overcome with need and no longer thinking at all, he _lunges_ for her, desperately pressing his mouth against hers. All he can think of is that he's kissing the woman he loves, to the extent that it overrules all his senses.

She makes a noise of surprise, the sound muffled by his lips. Breathing harshly against her, Gold instinctively clings to her, wanting to be as close to her as he possibly can be now that he has found out that such attentions are perhaps welcome after all… only for him to become vaguely aware that she's motionless beneath him.

He gets off her immediately, his eyes widening in horror. Only now he realizes what he just did, that he threw himself at her without warning. He had her pinned to the ground, his body lying heavily on top of hers - and he already can't remember what it was like to kiss her.

_Of course_ she doesn't want him to do anything like that.

"I'm so, _so_ sorry, Belle. I should never have…"

"It's all right," she says, rolling onto her side to face him again, bringing her hand back to his face. "It really is all right. More than that. You surprised me, that's all. In a very good way."

His eyes flutter closed as he gratefully leans into her touch, hardly able any longer to make sense of what's happening.

"In fact, I'd very much love to kiss you again." His fear to ruin this incredible opportunity as well must have shown on his face, for her small smile falters. "You don't want to?"

"I do, sweetheart, _I do_ ," he breathes.

The term of endearment he's been wishing to use to address her with for weeks slips out accidentally, but that's very much worth it when she looks considerably afterwards.

"It's just that… well, on top of everything I already told you, I clearly don't know how to kiss well either."

"Who says that I do? Who says that it matters?" she asks, to his delight shifting a little close to him once more, her body lightly brushing against his as they continue to lounge on the cushions next to the fire. "I think there's only one thing that truly matters."

"What is that?"

"The thing I planned to ask you right before you found a much more effective way to express your interest. To ask you whether there's a chance of you loving me, like I love you."

"It's beyond me how you can not mind my feelings for you, let alone reciprocate them. But if you do… I love you, sweetheart. I love you with all my heart."

"Well, since I love you too, I'd say that we've settled that question," Belle says happily, resting her hand on his arm to stroke it lightly, softening his no doubt anxious expression. "I think we can now get to the kissing part without worrying too much. At least I'll be prepared this time."

Although this is the second time that she has told him in no uncertain terms that she loves him in almost as many minutes, it's still difficult to believe... but slightly less so than before.

She looks at him questioningly, still with a bright smile on her lips. Swallowing with difficulty, he leans in to her again, much more slowly this time. Gold drinks in the sight of her, yet more stunning than usual now that he knows that, somehow, _he_ fuels her radiance.


	7. Chapter 7

Gold doesn't quite know how long he has been staring at her, his body and mind still reeling from the apparent fact that Belle revealed that she's in love with him, that his feelings for her aren't unrequited after all.

She's looking at him at least as intently, her eyes focused on his lips. He licks them subconsciously, nervously, despite all the positive developments still very much aware of everything that can go wrong between them… that she is so much better than he'll ever be.

Belle leans into him a little, tilting her head, her question unspoken but perfectly clear. No matter how much he'd like to kiss her again, hopefully more properly and gently this time, he can't let her. He turns his head away from her, his reaction equally unspoken and clear.

"What's wrong?" she asks softly, extending her hand to him but not touching him. "I thought… I thought you'd like me to kiss you?"

He shakes his head, the words he needs once more not coming to him as he struggles to explain to her that no good can possibly ever come from this, that he doesn't want to taint her with himself.

"Talk to me?"

" _This_ is wrong," he eventually rasps, gesturing between them.

It reminds him that they're still lying side by side, facing one another, on the cushions in front of the hearth in his cabin. They're much closer to each other than they should ever be, especially when talking like this.

"What do you mean, Mr. Gold?"

"The fact you have to call me that," he mutters, grasping at the first reason that he can grasp in the chaos of his thoughts.

Belle knows more about him than anyone else, appears to _accepts_ him at least so far… but there's a whole lot more unpleasantness about his person to know. He is far from certain that she'll still accept him when she finds out that the misery in his life extends even to his given name.

Best not to let it come to that.

"I'll call you whatever you like me to," she replies softly. "You know that, don't you?"

"I know," he says miserably, her acceptance of what she has learned of him so far making it yet more difficult to not reveal more of himself, in doing so taking the ever growing risk that she'll finally realize just how pathetic and useless he is.

No matter how much the landlord might want to, he can't let her shackle herself to him without at least letting her know up front what she's getting herself in to… just how disappointing he can only ever be to her.

"I'd love to know more about you," she says, her hand finding his arm after all, stroking it lightly. "But please know that I'm not asking you to tell me anything about yourself you're not comfortable with."

"I know that, Belle, it means the world to me. That's why I _want_ to talk to you about myself, but…"

"But what?"

"I'm afraid and rather convinced that you don't want to have anything to do with me anymore when you find out that… that video… it's not just that."

She looks at him with such sympathy, her affection for him clearly still not diminished. It crumbles his resolve to end their relationship, or at least the romantic aspect of it, right here and then.

"To get back to my name," he says instead, her kind eyes evoking a sliver of courage he didn't know he had. "Let's just say that my father named me after his favorite drink instead of giving me an actual name. Still, it was one of the less unpleasant things he did to me."

He chuckles humorlessly, the pain and humiliation of it not having faded even a little throughout the years.

"Rum," he says harshly when she looks at him in apprehension. "My father named me _Rum_."

"What about your mother?" she asks quietly, the tenderness in her voice breaking the little that's left of his heart.

"She left as soon as I was born," he says, tears welling up once more. "From what I've heard of her, I should be grateful for that."

The slow of tears becomes a steady stream when he thinks of his boy, who'd still be alive if it hadn't been for his cowardice. The dam which has held all his life, if only barely so, finally breaks after more than half a century.

"My son... I lost my son."

"I'm so sorry," she whispers, the firelight reflected in the sudden wetness of her eyes. "I'm _so_ sorry you had to go through all that."

"How can you possibly want someone like me?" he brings out, his voice breaking as he gestures weakly at himself.

"Don't say that," she whispers.

This time, she is the one lunging for him. His mind freezes just like her entire being did when he kissed her mere minute ago, but his body somehow knows exactly what to do. His arms come around Belle, pulling her tightly against him, as he buries his face in the crook of her neck and shoulders while she does the same with him.

"I want you because you're my best friend and because I'm so attracted to you that I don't know how I kept my hands to myself all this time."

He smiles against her skin through his tears at the matter-of-fact, almost fierce explanation, her loving hands caressing his back persuading him even if her words don't do so entirely.

"I want you because you're intriguing and generous and respectful," she adds purposefully, whispering into his ear. "Really handsome, too. Do you want to hear more?"

" _Yes_ ," he all but whimpers, his earlier despair banished to the background of his mind as Belle touches him like this and says these wonderful if rather credulous things to him.

"I want you because you're so very well-dressed and powerful, but at the same time you're the humblest and most vulnerable person I've ever met. It's… you're beyond fascinating, you know."

His hold on her is not as desperate as before while he starts to find comfort in her embrace that doesn't only soothe his solace, but moves him in an altogether different direction of hope and love as his tears dry on his face.

"I want you because I like the curve of your nose and mouth. Not to mention those cheekbones," she continues, brushing her nose against his face for good measure, leaving him sharply drawing in breath. "I love the color of your eyes, the lines around them. I love how honest your eyes are, how I can read your emotions in them."

That last revelation should be terrifying in its own right, but as it is he hangs to her every word, his arms still tightly around her as she tells him things he hadn't expected in a million years from anyone, let alone the woman he has fallen in love with.

"Tell me more?" he dares to ask, hating the overly hopeful edge of his voice but needing what she tells him as much as he needs her warm embrace.

"I want you because you smell _really_ nice."

"At least that expensive cologne is good for something then," he murmurs, bewildered that she somehow enjoys his scent and… well, everything about him, really.

"It's not your cologne," she remarks, pointedly rubbing her nose against his throat and inhaling deeply.

He groans in response the action, both because of the implication of her words and the physical sensation of her breath and nose against his sensitive skin.

"And your hair… don't even get me started on your _hair_. I want to bury my hands in it and never, _ever_ let go again."

"Why don't you?" he asks hoarsely, despite everything she's told him bewildered when she actually does exactly that.

"I want you because _I love you_ ," she adds heatedly, her words this time as convincing to him as her almost possessive grasp on his hair.

"I love you too," are the only words he can bring out, rather than the dozens of compliments which were flying through his mind when she somehow listed so many traits of him that she likes.

"That's all that matters, isn't it?" she asks, as if it's that simple.

There are the tears again, although this time they're more an expression of relief and happiness than anything else when she burrows herself into his arms again. It's as if there's nowhere she'd rather be.

It's mortifying to say the least to break out in tears like this again while she's right next to him, but at the same time her words of comfort and never faltering hands soothe him and make him see that she doesn't _care_ that he's such a mess.

At the same time, both the past and his problems don't seem to matter all that much now that he's in her embrace, almost as if he's free from all of it when he's in her arms. Soon, he's rather calm, all things considered, and very grateful indeed that she doesn't let go of him regardless.

"I take it you don't want me to call you Rum?" she asks when he's simply lying in her arms.

"I suppose you can call me whatever you like… sweetheart." He shivers, this time pleasantly so, when she merely smiles at his use of the term of endearment, which he hadn't expected her to accept from him in a million years.

Besides, his much hated name sounds a whole lot better when it comes from her lips.

"At this point, it's better than 'Mr. Gold', I think." she suggests. "More personal."

"Indeed," he murmurs, still in utter awe that they have reached this phase together in the first place. "I personally have a preference for 'Rumple'; it's what my aunts used to call me. They raised me after my father left me with them. They gave me that name because, back then, I worked in the field with the animals, which left me looking rather rumpled at the end of each and every day."

Realization almost visibly dawns on her as he tells her this. She effortlessly pulls yet another one of his layers aside, as she links this new information with his impeccable presence she's familiar with herself today.

It should scare him that he's telling her so much about himself, especially considering the power she unknowingly yields over him, but at least for now there's nothing but comfort in sharing his tale with her.

"Only if you don't mind, of course!"

"I don't mind at all, Belle. In fact, I think I quite like it."

"Me too," she smiles at him, running her hands through his hair again. "Which makes me wonder… would you like getting _rumpled_ again, Rumple?"

The most recent part of the conversation may have brought him mentally back to the past, but her remark and suggestively raised eyebrow remind him very much of the present. Becoming aware once more that Belle and he are holding each other in what might as well be a makeshift bed, that they _kissed_ and that they very soon may as well do so again, he nods breathlessly in response.


	8. Chapter 8

Belle can't quite believe that any of this is happening, but there's nothing unreal about Mr. Gold - _Rumple_ \- as he lies right next to her in front of the by the no longer blazing fire at their side. Just to make certain, she strokes her fingertips along his cheek, her stomach fluttering when he makes a noise of longing and tilts his head into her touch.

She has found out that there's nothing proverbial about butterflies in one's belly ever since he revealed his feelings for her to her - along with a past filled with more misery than anyone deserves, let alone the deep down so very loving man at her side.

"Let's go slowly, all right?" she suggests, marveling at the way even the lightest brush of her fingertips along his cheeks has him closing his eyes in obvious enjoyment as he sighs her name. "Maybe we shouldn't start with kissing, and take another step back. We could get used to each other first, just touching and holding each other?"

There's nothing 'just' about doing anything remotely like this with Mr. Gold. His awed and grateful expression tells her that he feels exactly the same way.

"What do you propose?" he asks, his voice still wonderfully hoarse.

"Something like this?" she says, shifting closer to him.

The movement brings their chests together and she moans with appreciation when her breasts press none too lightly against his torso. Her vocalization becomes louder when he groans at the contact as well, the previously utterly unthinkable sound yet better than she could have imagined.

She smiles in delight and encouragement when he places his hand on her waist to draw her yet closer to him, the touch ever so careful but slightly less hesitant than before.

"Can you teach me, sweetheart?" he asks, stroking her hip as she wraps her arm around his neck, burrowing into his chest. "What you'd like me to do for you? From the beginning?"

Belle loves the manner in which he addresses her, the adoring and completely devoted way he looks at her while doing so.

"Let's teach each other," she replies softly, shivering in anticipation. "From the beginning."

"I'm quite certain that you've got much more to teach me than the other way around," he says rather harshly, chuckling humorlessly.

"What do you mean?" she asks, her expression falling.

"I didn't mean to say… I didn't intend to imply…" Now he is the one to look upset, the notion of accidentally accusing her of promiscuity apparently worse than what he actually tried to say.

"What?" she coaxes, hoping with all her might that the progress they've made between the two of them hasn't been made undone by whatever it is which is troubling him now. "Talk to me? Please?"

"It's just that, being with you, being like this… it's everything to me, Belle. I can't describe how much I enjoy being with you here like this."

"That feeling is entirely mutual, Rumple."

"But _how_? How can you possibly enjoy _me_?!"

"I just do," she says firmly, despairing at the past experiences which made him like this as she tightens her hold on him to underscore her point. "I can happily repeat all the reasons why like I did before, but I don't think that's going to help right now."

"I don't want to do anything you don't like," he murmurs, his voice almost inaudible.

Belle relaxes a little, deducting that this must be what is bothering him the most at this point. She marvels at the supposedly cruel and cold landlord who shows more concern for her well-being than any other man, any other person really, ever has.

"You won't," she says softly, stroking his back encouragingly. "You of all people won't. As long as you don't force anything, you won't do anything I don't want you to do… and I know there's no risk of that with you."

"All right," he says, to her relief sounding more at ease as well.

"Besides, I'm hardly an expert myself. Let's just talk about it? That way, we both can find out soon enough whether something is welcome or not. Would you like that?"

"I'd like that very much."

"We could establish some rules, if that helps for you," she says, almost becoming tempted to throw all caution out of the window, simply because she trusts him as much as she trusts herself.

"What kind of rules?" he asks, his puzzled tone reminding her that they should go slowly after all, simply because a loving and supportive relationship is completely new to him.

"About what we do and don't like to do together, which parts of each other we do and don't want to touch," she elaborates, trailing her fingertips down to his hips. "I could tell you what parts of me I'd like you to touch now, and what parts of _you_ I want to touch. After you do the same, we can determine the overlap between those lists."

"That would be… helpful," he replies, shivering under her touch. "You go first?"

"All right. To start with parts of me I'd like you to touch… well, there's quite a lot of them, actually. My hair, my face, my back, my legs, my hips, my thighs, my breasts… Eventually, I want you to touch _all_ of me and I want to touch all of you, but for now I'd love to hear what you would like me to do for you."

"You'd like me to touch your _breasts_?!" he brings out, utterly incredulous.

"Very much so," she says, the ache inside of her becoming yet more insistent when his gaze flies down her body, resting on her chest, his own torso heaving. "So, Rumple, tell me - would you also like to do that?"

"I do," he breathes, sounding rather strangled… and _very_ excited at the prospect. Which she takes as a really good sign indeed. "But later, if you don't mind? After we've gotten somewhat used to this, like you said?"

"Of course. Is there anything you do want us to do now?"

"I was thinking about… I'd like to…"

"What would you like?" she asks breathlessly, wholly excited at the prospect of the landlord sharing any fantasy, let alone one involving _her_.

"Can I kiss your neck?" he asks, his delightful flush deepening further.

" _Definitely_. Can I kiss yours as well?"

" _Yes_ ," he replies as huskily as she just did herself, looking at her with such longing that she has to prevent herself from throwing herself at him and having her way with him right now after all.

"Then what are we waiting for?"

There's nothing but longing and hope on his face when he leans in to her again, looking questioningly at her before burying his face in the crook of her neck and shoulder. She moans happily when he all but nuzzles her there, letting out a similar sound of enjoyment himself.

His movements bring her face closer to him as well and Belle gratefully presses her nose and lips against his skin, breathing in deeply. Rubbing her nose experimentally against him, the way he tightens his hold on her and mimics her action is the perfect reward.

She _shudders_ when he opens his mouth a little and kisses her neck that way, marveling at the way he makes her feel… and wondering how much better yet the landlord will make her feel if – _when_ \- they continue to progress their relationship like this.

Determined to make him feel as good as she can as well, she lets her tongue dart out and slide it against his skin while tangling one of her hands deeply in his hair. She smiles at his reaction, yet more gutteral than before, only to yelp when he closes his mouth around a spot near her throat which turns out to be particularly sensitive, suckling on it with surprising and thrilling ferocity.

" _Belle_ ," he groans, sounding utterly wrecked.

Belatedly realizing that she accidentally pulled at his hair at the nape of his neck as he sent pleasure spreading all throughout her, she lets go of him before making certain that she didn't hurt him. But rather than discomfort, joy like her own is still written all over his face.

"I had no idea it could be like this," he murmurs in awe, his smile the most beautiful thing she has ever seen.

"Neither did I."

Her heart breaks for him once more as she thinks of his loneliness and his misery even when he was married. At the same time, she is surprised to that being with him like this is yet better than she expected, that there's something about him which makes her feel like she didn't know she could.

"Could you… do that again?" he says rather sheepishly, pointing at his hair.

Thrilled that he _liked_ her tugging at it - and yet more so that he isn't afraid any longer to make requests like this - Belle is eager indeed to continue their ministrations. Sensing a distance between their lower bodies which wasn't there before, she shifts closer to him as she aims her mouth for his neck again, only for him to tense and jerk away from her.

She looks at Rumple questioningly, moving away from him again. She fears that she has gone too fast after all, but she doesn't quite see _how_ , considering how well they were doing until a few seconds ago.

"You don't want to feel that, sweetheart," he says hoarsely, hanging his head in apparent shame.

She doesn't know what he's referring to until she glances down his body in confusion, belatedly noticing the unmistakable bulge at the front of his trousers. Belle almost laughs in relief and excitement when she concludes what's happening, why he wants her to stop being close to him, but she holds back that reaction given the circumstances and his past.

"Please don't apologize," she says, grateful when he accepts her touch at least when she reaches for his face, caressing his cheek in the way she by now knows he loves."There's nothing about you that I don't want to feel, Rumple. Don't you know that?"

She is exhilarated that _she_ is the one who does this to him… that she'll appreciate him in all the ways his ex wife did not. Still, his hesitancy even when he nods in positive response to her question reminds her that they still have a long way to go.

Indeed, she has got the distinct feeling that Rumple stays with her because he can't _not_ to, almost despite himself. It's like he doesn't truly believe that their relationship will also in the long term be a happy one - that she won't end up treating him exactly like the ex wife who hurt him so very much.

"Obviously, we won't do anything either of us don't want to do," she continues, never ceasing to stroke her fingertips against his cheek and the stubble which begins to grow there at this time of day.

At the same time, she can't resist glancing down again, at the evidence of his arousal. Heat rushes throughout her at the sight of him like this, the knowledge that _she_ caused this.

"I know," he says softly, reaching for her face as well. "I _know_. But let's go slowly, all right? Step by step."

"Of course."

"Besides, it's getting late. I can take you home, if you like."

"Do you _want_ me to go home?"

"No," he whispers, glancing at her from behind the curtain of his hair - that single word a victory in its own right.

"Me neither."

"Would you instead perhaps like to… practice again?" he asks shyly, shifting a little closer to her. "While knowing - and _feeling_ \- what it does to me?"

"There's nothing I'd rather do."


	9. Chapter 9

Gold can barely believe what's happening. Despite everything, Belle is still right at his side, if anything looking yet more excited and eager to continue their physical exploration of each other. The more he finds out how incredible she feels, how incredible she makes him feel as well, the more it's beyond him why she wants _him_.

And yet, she's still here and she doesn't look like she is going anywhere, like he hasn't disappointed her yet. Just looking at her arouses him, her hair tousled and her skin flushed. It's all because of him, even when his flesh betrayed him so horribly.

Indeed, Belle looks like she can't wait for them to continue getting to know one another with careful but no less inflaming hands and mouths, despite having found out by now what even the smallest touch of hers does to him. Never mind the way he can't help but react when she caresses any part of his body or, heaven forbid, tug at his hair.

Not allowing himself to doubt her affections for him again if only for a few moments, Gold questioningly leans into her once more. To his delight, she immediately reacts in kind. He carefully seeks out the heaven of her neck, sighing in relief when he presses his face against it once more, especially when she immediately mimics his action.

As if it's the most normal thing in the world, they're once more brushing lips and tongue against skin. He gratefully loses himself in her acceptance, in the slightly salty taste of her, her warmth and softness and sweet scent.

He would be a very happy man to spend the rest of his life like this, to share nothing more with her than this, to bask in this cocoon of bliss for as long as they possibly can. Surrounded by her, he dares to trail his fingers down her side, smiling against her skin when this prompts her to move more firmly into him.

The landlord is thrilled by this progress… until her movement results in her thigh brushing against the part of him over which he has lost control the most.

It was bad enough that he got so very hard so very quickly to begin with, but in response to this first direct stimulation he truly can't suppress his need for _more_ any longer. Something stronger than himself taking over, he tightens his hold on her and bucks his hips into hers, a sound awfully resembling a sob escaping him as pleasure floods throughout him.

" _Yes_ ," Belle moans.

She immediately shifts again, until he's fitted as perfectly between her thighs as he can be while they remain lying on their sides. If he didn't know any better, it's almost as if she finds as much enjoyment in this graceless rutting as he does himself.

The fact that she reacts with such vigor, rather than the complete disgust he would expect from her in a situation like this, is the shock that pulls him from his haze. He knows by now that she wants to touch him, perhaps even _kiss_ him, but this is very much _not_ what they agreed on.

Gold abruptly withdraws from her now that he can still can, breathing hard. It's bad enough that he has embarrassed himself further, but that doesn't compare to the horror of confronting her with himself in this state - like something _wild_ , feral almost.

But rather than expressing any of the rejection and disgust he would expect, Belle _grins_ at him, a rather wicked and unmistakably delighted expression on her face.

"Talk to me?" she says, her smile falling when she sees his face.

He gestures downwards, at the most offending part of himself, not understanding why she simply smiles in encouragement - and questioningly moves closer to him again.

"Do you know what this does to me?" she asks, purposefully but carefully bringing her thigh to his groin once more. "To see you like this? Knowing that _I_ am the one who is doing this to you? That you're attracted like this to _me_?"

As if all of that isn't mesmerizing enough yet, she lightly but purposefully strokes her lower thigh against his arousal, looking him straight in the eyes. This time, Gold can't convince himself any longer that she somehow doesn't want this as much as he does himself.

" _Belle_ ," he whispers gratefully when she stimulates him like this, yet more awed that she offers him this generosity without immediately ridiculing him. "Oh, _sweetheart_ …"

He closes his eyes, for the first time in his life simply letting pleasure wash over him rather than expecting something horrible to follow right afterwards.

"If I were a man, I'd look exactly the same right now," she whispers, increasing the pressure a little to provide yet more mind-blowing friction. "How does it feel?"

For a moment, he thinks that she's mocking him after all by asking a question to which the answer is so painfully obvious. But when he opens again, she looks at him with genuine curiosity. It dawns on him that she, just like him, possibly didn't have someone to converse and explore like this before she got to know him in a way he didn't even know possible.

" _Incredible_ ," he all but growls, to his returning embarrassment realizing that he won't be able to last even with this rather unorthodox type of stimulation.

"I can continue doing this, if you like? Or I can use my hand… or my mouth…"

For a second, there's nothing Gold rather wants than exactly that, to find out where this incredible road may lead to… although he'd first probably be torn by indecision over the three alternatives she offers, one yet more tantalizing and forbidden than the other.

But even in this state of lust, he doesn't forget for a second that he won't know how to return the favor and that he should know better than to request pleasure which he can't give her back in return.

"I… I can't tell you how much I appreciate that offer, sweetheart," he says, moving a few inches away from her in an attempt to calm himself a little. "But for now, let's keep... practicing like we did before? Not missing any steps?"

"Good idea. After all, we _still_ haven't gotten to the kissing part yet. I'm very much looking forward to that."

"Indeed," he murmurs weakly, the memory of holding her and caressing her body in its own right so good that he momentarily forgot about the other intimacies they talked about.

"Kissing first then?"

"Kissing first," he agrees throatily.

"How shall we do that? It might be easiest if I lay down on my back and you…"

To Gold, there's nothing straightforward about getting on top of her like she gestures for him to do - not while he's in the state that he's in and _especially_ not when she pulls up her skirt a few inches in an unspoken offer to accommodate him in the cradle of her thighs.

There's _no way_ that this is going to end without him embarrassing himself yet further right when he needs to prove himself to her the most, unless…

"Would you mind…?" he begins sheepishly, picking up a cushion and gesturing at her spread thighs, his throat going dry at the sight of it.

"Whatever works for you," she says, smiling up at him as if she doesn't care at all that he has to take his precaution.

That's how Gold ends up maneuvering himself between her thighs, her bare skin against the undeserving fabric of his trousers. The cushion protects him from some of the overwhelming sensations rushing through him when he tentatively gets on top of her.

Breathing heavily, he experimentally settles himself, leaning on his arms and subsequently on his elbows when he finds that the former keeps too much distance between them. He swallows with difficulty when he finds himself so close to her, especially when she looks up at him expectantly.

No more words are needed to establish what both of them want. Gazing lovingly in her eyes, that doesn't mean though that he can actually kiss her now. He's full, nerve-wreckingly conscious of just how close they are, that they're breathing in the same air between them.

Being with Belle like this, merely _looking_ at her, is such a privilege that he can barely imagine himself doing anything more than this. But then she twines her hand in his hair, bringing his face closer to her own, and he can't prevent himself from moving after all.

Still, he is determined to go slowly, for both their sakes. His eyes fluttering closed as he leans in to her, his nose accidentally bumps against her. Before he can apologize, she giggles softly, an undeniably joyful sound, and he instinctively repeats the motion, laughing quietly as well.

As they almost playfully brush their noses together, it isn't all that difficult either to press his lips against the skin of her cheeks whenever he encounters it. That's how Gold ends up kissing her forehead, chin and nose as well, despite being rather distracted when she returns the favor.

Somehow, what he feared to turn undeniably into humiliation, regret and disappointment becomes yet more enjoyable now that they are together like this, kissing chastely and laughing happily as he lies on top of her. He's beginning to wonder himself why he hasn't actually sought her mouth with his own yet as Belle continues not to tense or scream in disgust.

"Please?" she whispers when he withdraws slightly from her, his gaze on her lips.

He nods, finding in that moment that there's nothing easier and more pleasant than leaning into her again and simply pressing his lips briefly to hers.

She sighs against his mouth in unmistakable delight, carding her hands through his hair, encouraging him to repeat his action, more firmly and longer this time. To his delight and relief, Belle kisses him back immediately when he withdraws again to gauge her reaction.

"This is lovely," he dares to remark. " _Very_ lovely."

"Oh yes, it is," she wholeheartedly agrees.

He kisses her again, marveling how natural this has already become. Now that he isn't as nervous as he was about this until a minute ago, Gold can begin to appreciate the warmth of her, the taste and softness of her lips as he kisses her over and over again. He lingers a little longer each time and angles his head to prevent bumping his nose into hers.

He could go on like this for a long, long time. But no matter how lost he could easily get in Belle's embrace, he is very much aware that they should stop doing this before she may grow tired of it. Noticing that there aren't any embers left in the hearth, he reluctantly pushes himself up on his arms, rolling off her.

"It must be past midnight," he remarks. "I should bring you home."

"I still don't want to go home," she says softly, rolling onto her side to snuggle into him again.

Even an hour ago, that remark and its potential implications would have terrified him, but now all Gold does is happily wrapping his arms around her.

"There's only one bed here," he says with regret, "and I don't think either of us should sleep on the floor."

"I _know_ there's only one bed here, Rumple. And I'm not saying that either of us should sleep on the floor. Not strictly speaking, at least."

She can't possibly mean for the two of them to share a bed, especially not right after finding out what his body gets up to, quite literally, even when he's conscious and does his utmost best to control himself.

"Don't you think it would be wonderful for us to fall asleep in each other's arms?" she asks softly. "Right here, on these cushions, next to the fire?"

"That would be very lovely, yes," he says thickly, no longer able to deny it even towards himself.

Granted, the notion of sleeping next to Belle is still a rather stressful one, but even the fear of ruining their relationship after all fades once more when she brightly smiles at him.

"I've dreamed of waking up next to you, you know," she says, seemingly rather shy of a sudden.

"Me too," he rasps, getting the funny feeling that she, somehow, has been wanting this as much as he does himself. "Although I should warn you that I might… _move_ in my sleep."

"I should probably give you the same warning," she says playfully, as if this doesn't matter to her at all - as if she's in fact rather looking forward to it. "Do you mind?"

For a moment, he's too bewildered by the notion that _he_ would mind having her hands accidentally all over him to actually reply to her, but then he fervently shakes his head in response.

"Good. Neither do I."

Belle gets up, getting another fire started in the hearth before lying down next to him again, her back towards him as she faces the flames. Her unspoken meaning is perfectly clear to him when she looks invitingly at him from over her shoulder.

Barely able to contain a groan at the prospect, Gold has the presence of mind to grab the cushion which previously somewhat held his arousal in check. Placing it against her rear, he settles himself right behind her, effectively spooning her, wrapping his arm protectively around her as they settle for the night.


	10. Chapter 10

A few weeks ago, Gold was convinced that he never wanted to face any of the inhabitants of the town again, let alone ever set another foot at Granny's diner. But as he approaches the very place where his public humiliation started, Belle right at his side, he is more confident - _happier_ \- than he has been in a long time, if ever.

The fact that they've located Jones and that they've got a good shot at getting him into jail is almost merely the icing on the cake.

"Are you ready?" she asks as they approach the entrance, the few people they encounter all standing dead in their tracks as soon as they lay eyes on them.

"I am. Thank you, sweetheart."

"Let's go then," she says, as convinced and enthusiastic as he is himself.

The landlord will probably never understand why she wants to be with him, let alone wants others to know that they are together now. But he's very pleased indeed that she, in a way, is claiming him like this.

Rather than shaking with fear like he expected himself to do if he ever were to go near the diner again, let alone during the dinner rush, he's practically vibrating with barely contained exhilaration now that he does so with Belle as his companion.

He opens the door for her, letting her go through first, his hand lingering on the small of her back as they step inside, like he by now knows she enjoys. The first patrons spot them almost immediately, openly staring at him when he faces the townspeople for the first time since they witnessed the most embarrassing moment of his life.

Gold stands still on the threshold of the diner, her arm brushing encouragingly against his, looking each and every single person who gapes at them straight in the eyes. All patrons and staff members gawk at him with a sense of anticipation, as if they can't wait for him to break down again.

But as the silence lengthens, he _smirks_ at them, no longer caring what they might or might not have seen of him, what they might or might not think of his pathetic performance with a woman who hated him in a video which was made and distributed without his consent.

It's an incredible feeling indeed to conquer his fear like this, to find confirmation that he truly no longer cares what these people might say or think about him. He didn't entirely believe Belle when she told him that it would be like this, but here they are, finding out once more how right she usually is… how right _they_ are, together, in every sense of the word.

"Shall we, sweetheart?" he asks, not bothering to conceal the term of endearment which he, until recently, didn't imagine himself uttering to anyone anymore, let alone the kind and beautiful librarian.

He takes her hand in his own, his attention on the wonderfulness of that gesture rather than on the other shock of the people who watch them.

"Yes, I'm _starving_ ," she says, the way she openly glances down his body leaving him staring at her and shivering deliciously.

They may not have discussed _this_ when she suggested for the two of them to announce their relationship to the entire town, and for him to conquer his fears while they were at it, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

They haven't gone beyond sharing intoxicating kisses and caresses either, their slow but ever more confident and relaxed togetherness increasingly filled with innuendos and well… _flirting_ , he supposes. This too Gold wouldn't change for the world, the unspoken promise of _more_ by now exciting rather than terrifying him, as he's no longer convinced that he'll sooner rather than later accidentally disgust or, worse, hurt her.

The implication that she wants _him_ for dinner, in a manner of speaking, almost distracts him from the reaction of the townspeople when it slowly but surely dawns on them that the no longer feared landlord and the big-hearted librarian are in fact very much together.

Following her gaze from a certain, by now twitching part of his anatomy to the facial expressions of the people around them, he's just in time to see the confusion and sheer bewilderment register there. There's also quite some cutlery and even a few plates clattering to the floor here and there.

It reminds him of a similar thing happening when the video of him began spreading at this very location, but the reason behind these reactions couldn't be more different from the cruel amusement and hilarity of the previous time.

"We'd like a table for two, please," Belle says sweetly to Miss Lucas as they head for a table, deftly stepping over the mess where the waitress dropped a plate of lasagna.

"Belle, what the _hell_?!" she hisses as she follows them, readying her pen and notebook to take their order.

"What?" his love merely asks as he pulls up a chair for her before sitting down himself right at her side, purposefully facing the entire dinner from their carefully chosen vantage point.

No longer afraid of what Belle might say now that someone tries to confront them with their relationship, he surveys the people still staring as they sit here like a couple. Despite the scrutiny, he feels stronger than he ever has before, especially when she reaches for his hand again.

"You and… _Gold_. What the hell are you thinking?!"

"I'm thinking of how very happy he makes me," she replies, merely raising a wholly composed eyebrow, "and that I'd really like to eat something."

"Indeed," he adds pointedly. He knows very well that Belle can handle this herself, but that he doesn't mean that he wants her to have to deal with this on her own. "Can we order?"

"Of course," Miss Lucas replies, all but grinding the words through her teeth.

"What would you like, sweetheart?"

"Burgers and iced tea, please."

"What about you?" the waitress asks, jotting down the order with apparent anger as she looks at Gold with open hostility. "Anything other than getting your greedy claws into a naive woman half your age?"

"Ruby!" Belle hisses with the same anger, "I'm hardly naive and age has nothing to do with this."

"The same for me, please," he says tensely, somehow further fueling her unhappiness as he orders the same as his companion… and not entirely unconvinced by Miss Lucas' remark, which is very much in line with the doubts regarding their relationship - doubts he still hasn't entirely conquered himself.

He relaxes again when Belle squeezes his hand lightly and scoots a little closer to him while Miss Lucas retreats, she casts one last, suspicious glance at them.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he murmurs, knowing only too well that each and every person in the diner - in the _town_ \- feels the same way about their relationship.

To him, it's nothing new to be loathed and treated with such contempt - if anything, he's used to it. Knowing exactly what this is like, the prospect of Belle going through all this as well is yet worse. He _knew_ that it would be exactly like this, but now that they've stepped out of their private bubble of bliss and actually face the townspeople again, it's a harsh reality check regardless.

"You don't have to be. We both knew something like this would happen. Besides, after Ruby encouraged me to stay with my ex despite the way he treated me, I don't really care about her opinion anymore. As for the rest of the people in this town… given how they reacted to that tape, I don't even _want_ their opinion anymore."

"You're a wonder," he breathes in utter awe and admiration.

"So are you," she says softly, placing her hand on his knee.

Gold doesn't feel like that statement is true, but that doesn't matter all that much when they smile at each other, she apparently as lost in his eyes as he is in hers.

Only when someone impatiently clears their throat and they find Ruby ready to all but slam their plates and drinks in front of them, he realizes that they must have sat like this for quite some time, looking at each other with doubtlessly silly smiles on their faces.

In the past, he would have felt utterly ridiculous to be seen like this by anyone, let alone by about half the town, but now he would happily do this every day for the rest of his life.

"To us," Belle says, raising her glass of iced tea when Ruby withdraws herself from their table.

"To us," he murmurs happily, lightly clinking their glasses together.

They keep smiling at each other as they get started on their burgers, their free hands meeting on the table as they eat in each other's company for everyone to see. This too is something which pleases rather than discomforts him, as he is thrilled to send out yet another signal of just how much they are together.

"This is good," she enthuses, although she looks at him rather than the food on her plate.

"Indeed," he murmurs, having all but forgotten about their burgers now that they sit together in public like this.

"You haven't even tried yours yet."

"I know," he murmurs, at this point actually feeling like he needs nothing in his life except for her, that she can sustain him in a way which actual sleep and food and shelter can't.

"Are you saying you want me to feed you?" she asks, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

"You would do that?!" he asks, shivering pleasantly at the prospect.

"Of course," she says, suddenly much more serious. "In fact, I'd love to. Preferably in a more private setting, though."

He nods in agreement, already imagining a much more intimate dinner in the undisturbed quietness of his home.

"Still, there's one thing I _would_ very much like to do right here."

His breath quickens and he lowers his fork as she shifts yet closer to him. They talked about this; in fact, _he_ was the one who very carefully suggested this in the increasing frequent moments of bravery she inspires in him, seemingly without even trying.

Indeed, the mere notion of kissing her is still enough to leave his blood boiling, but the prospect of doing so while everyone can see them, to be openly claimed and accepted by her like that… and it turns out that fantasy pales in comparison to reality.

He nods when she questioningly leans in to him, brushing her lips lightly against his. His eyes fluttering closed, he has by now the confidence to angle his head a little and kiss her back slightly more firmly.

"I love you," she whispers against his lips.

Her voice is so soft that only he can hear those magical three words, but the fact that she speaks them in a public place where others _could_ hear them only further increases his conviction that this is truly real, that she actually wants him.

"I love you too," he breathes, forgetting altogether that they're in the diner.

Everything they've shared so far is so utterly wonderful in its own right, that he hasn't even really thought about doing more than pressing their lips together like this, let alone in public. But when she angles her head a little further and slightly opens her mouth, he finds himself experimentally doing the same.

That's how they end up taking another step in their relationship in the middle of Granny's. The very first brush of their tongues against one another has him _groaning_ , blindly pressing his mouth - and himself - more firmly against her in a quest for _more._

Entirely oblivious to what he's actually doing, all of his focus is on the sensations that their activities evoke within him as they deepen the kiss. He can _taste_ her, distracting him from the intoxicating sensation of her hands carding through his hair. This kind of contact too yet better than he could have thought even after he has gotten to know Belle like this.

The landlord may have thought that she couldn't arouse him more than she already has in the recent past, but it turns out that nothing they've shared - so far, at least - can compare to kissing like this, especially not when she shifts closer to him, her body so very near to where he longs for her the most.

They break apart only when the sheer lack of oxygen in their lungs forces them to do so. The way she looks at him, her eyes telling him that they've only gotten started, makes him breathe yet harder than he already is.

Gold probably would have all but thrown himself at her again after taking in some much needed air, if it hadn't been for the loud crash that suddenly breaks the silence - a silence that was very heavy indeed. Only when he spots the shards and the splattered soup on the floor after their intimacy has caused yet more consternation, he recalls where they are exactly.

The incredible woman at his side flushes brightly, clearly having forgotten about their surroundings as well. Idly reminding himself that _he_ has made her feel like this, his desire for her increases yet further rather than diminishing when he belatedly notices that she's practically in his lap - and that the most insistent part of himself seems to be closing the remaining distance between them on its own accord.

"Shall we go home?" she asks, rather suggestively.

"It might be for the best if we stay here for a while longer," he replies, his voice rougher than he knew it could be.

"I agree," she says, getting back in her own seat, her cheeks still bright red. "After all, we haven't finished our burgers yet. It would be a waste not to eat them."

"Indeed."

"We could have _dessert_ at home, though," she says, her voice intent but her eyes questioning.

He can only groan when the meaning of the implicit invitation dawns on him. Although he can't begin to formulate a reply to the notion that she longs for yet more than what they've shared so far, that sound tells Belle all she needs to know if her eager smile is anything to go by.

Happier yet that she referred to his – by now _their -_ house as _home_ , he marvels at the fact that the reason he's rather desperate go get out of the diner is so very different from last time. Still, he doesn't want to make his way home while his body betrays exactly how much he wants to get there with her.

Reminding himself that there are still quite a few things he _doesn't_ want the townspeople to know, Gold does for now his best not to think of what might come later tonight just yet.


	11. Chapter 11

Belle couldn't be happier about their decision to go to Granny's together and inform the entire town of their relationship that way. She  _loves_ what it did to Rumple's confidence, and what it does to her, professing their love for each other in public like this. The protectiveness they feel for each other, in a delightfully possessive way, increased further yet when they expressed it for everyone to see.

She is yet more pleased by what the aftermath of it does to him, as if a heavy weight even she couldn't reach has been lifted from his shoulders. He keeps smiling at her as he drives them to his house, reaching for her with one hand. She does the same, placing her hand on his thigh, almost right where his desire for her is so beautifully visible in the light of the street lamps.

He looks at her like he  _wants_ her to touch him like that, to finally let her show him just how much she wants him – all of him. The fact that he's driving is the only reason that she doesn't do so right now.

They're practically giddy when they get out of the car in his driveway, the heavy rain pouring down and soaking them within seconds only adding to their excitement. They laugh out loud as they get onto the porch, holding hands as they make their way there.

Rather than unlocking the door, he all but throws himself at her once they're out of the rain. She kisses him back with everything she's held back in the past few weeks, and then some. He does the same, leaving her whimpering with desire as he hoists one of her legs around his waist and pushes the most obvious evidence of his arousal firmly against her in a seemingly wholly instinctive manner.

He isn't afraid or ashamed any longer to let her know how very much he wants her, and she couldn't be happier. Now that they're no longer in the diner, she can kiss him back as deeply as she wants, her hands wandering.

He growls into her mouth when she experimentally takes hold of his rear to pull him yet more snugly against her, the consequent friction leaving her gasping. Rumple grinds his hips into hers, spreading liquid heat all throughout her.

"We should... we should go inside," he rasps, breaking away from her.

His words initially don't registers in her mind when she takes in the sight of him, the dim light overhead revealing his dark and wide pupils, his flaring nostrils as he breathes heavily. Finally free of at least some of his demons, he is truly magnificent... and he is  _hers_.

She nods in agreement, but she can't keep herself away from him as he lets go of her and attempts to unlock the door. The mere sight of his hand going near his thighs, if only to retrieve the keys of the house from his pocket, brings her attention back to the straining presence in the same area.

Licking her lips, she presses herself against his side as he fumbles with the key, rubbing her hand up and down his thigh. She dares to apply more pressure than when they were in the car, marveling at the way the relatively innocent touch has him keening, but there's something she'd yet much rather do.

"Would you like me to touch you?" she whispers in his ear.

"You  _are_ touching me?" he brings out, his eyes tightly shut.

She can't help but laugh out loud at his misunderstanding, which this time seems to be caused more by his lust-dazed mind than the lack of realization that she  _enjoys_ touching him, either chastely or not so much. He looks up at the sound, to her relief tentatively smiling back at her rather than being uncomfortable, despite not understanding her amusement.

"I mean  _here_ ," she says, shivering as his eyes widen in comprehension when he follows her gaze downwards. "Would you like me to touch you here?"

He nods quickly and she swallows heavily when he is ready to do what she has been craving for weeks. Licking her lips subconsciously, she inches her fingertips sideways, moaning when he shunts his hips towards her and gasps her name when she merely brushes her little finger against him.

Very pleased with this reaction, and the hardness and heat of him even through his clothes, she trails her fingertips along his bulge. She watches breathlessly as his eyes flutter closed and he thrusts against her hand, marveling at how utterly  _gorgeous_ he is, yet more so than usual now that he feels free enough to give in to his desire.

Belle would love to touch him more firmly, to rub him to completion right there and then. He's perspiring and panting when she merely cups him lightly through the heavy fabric of his no longer impeccable trousers, and he already feels so very good as she holds him in her palm like this.

She can feel him twitch against her hand, causing moisture to gather between her thighs. She rubs slowly, purposefully, her breath quickening further at how close to completion he already seems to be, at the unbidden images in her mind's eye of doing something like this with a lot less clothing on.

"Tell me what you like me to do for you?" she asks,  _very_ happy to make him come undone but needing to be certain that he actually wants that now.

"Let's go inside first."

"Of course," she replies sheepishly, having momentarily forgotten that they're still on the porch and that this isn't exactly a good spot to do whatever comes next.

It seems highly unlikely for someone to spot them from the deserted street in the pouring rain. But no matter how much she enjoyed claiming him with her kisses at the diner, she doesn't want to include the townspeople in  _this_ aspect of their relationship. Given his history, Rumple doubtlessly feels yet stronger about that.

He finally unlocks the door and she absent-mindedly shrugs out of her soaked coat as he gestures for her to get inside first. He follows her example before closing the door. Belle blindly reaches for the light switch as soon as they're inside, knowing to find the ones in his home by now as easily as in her own.

"Let's keep the lights off?" he requests quietly.

"Of course. But please know that I'd very much like to see you now as much I always do."

"Maybe we can switch the light on next time?"

"That would be lovely," she replies, practically feeling his blush.

Her eyes adjust to the darkness, the dim moonlight reaching them from elsewhere in the house enabling her to see the contours of his face. When he steps towards her, she moves forwards as well, embracing him.

Their mouths find one another again, meeting for a slow and deep kiss which feels better yet than before now that his length is pressing insistently against her. Considering the man she's with, she's pleasantly surprised when his movements soon become more urgent.

Hands roaming over him from his long, wet hair to the front of his also damp trousers, Belle rubs her hand against him again, more firmly than before. He almost frantically presses himself against her, trapping her hand between them. The two of them seek as much friction as they can while embracing like this, still standing up, which is rather challenging now that she can barely move her hand any longer.

He makes no indication of it, seemingly wanting to hold and kiss her more than anything else, but she can tell that this isn't enough for either of them, or at least not as quickly and comfortably as they both would like.

She steps backwards, moving in the direction of the staircase to head for his bedroom –  _their_ bedroom. He follows her, his body for a second illuminated by bright moonlight as he steps in front of a window. The sheer need for her written all over his face and the sight of his disheveled appearance bans all thoughts except for  _now_ from her mind.

Belle reaches for his hand, pulling him towards her as she settles herself on one of the lower steps of the staircase. He sits down on his knees in front of her to be able to kiss her again. While they do so she leans backwards, encouraging him to move with her.

She spreads her leg, moaning with relief when he settles himself between them, until they're more or less lying on the steps and she can feel each and every inch of him. Her right hand stroking his back and rear, she uses her left to take his and encourage him to cup one of her breasts.

His resulting grunt is so primal, so guttural, that the sound alone arouses her more than any other person has ever done - let alone the actual sensation of his deft fingers. Rumple touches her like this once more, more firmly this time. She presumes that the way he brushes his thumb along her nipple is accidental, but the result is electrifying, prompting him to repeat the action – and again, and again.

Her feet braced on the lowest step, she rubs the lower half of her body along his, heat coiling and throbbing where his hardness meets her yielding flesh. She gets more excited yet with the knowledge that this is  _it_ , that Rumple has become confident and comfortable enough to explore a wider range of their attraction to each other, and...

"Belle, sweetheart, we're on a  _staircase_ _,"_ he remarks, before kissing her again.

"I know. I noticed. But not very much so," she manages to bring out as they come up for air for a moment, not wanting to stop at all. "Would you rather get up right now to find a bed or a couch?"

"Do you?" he asks, reflecting the question rather than answering it, although the fire and urgency in his gaze answers her question perfectly.

"I don't."

"So you... you don't  _mind_."

"I don't mind at all. Do you?"

"I... not at all. But also... if we continue like this, I'll probably very quickly... finish."

"Then what are we waiting for?" she asks softly.

She's very appreciative that he always puts her comfort and pleasure first, but at the same time rather worried that he makes her enjoyment so much more important than his own.

"Because I don't know how to make you feel this good as well. I mean... this won't be enough for you, will it?"

"Probably not. But let's focus on you first. I'll only feel better afterwards, when I've felt and heard you... finish. Then we'll find a more suitable place and I'll show you  _exactly_ what I like you to do for me."

She looks up at him expectantly, hoping that he'll agree to this. As much as she wants to see and feel him come undone in its own right, she feels that he'll be a lot more at ease – and focused – once he has found release with her for the first time.

"If you're certain..." he says, swallowing audibly.

"Oh yes. Very much so. Let's get as comfortable as we can here?"

There's just enough light for her to see him nod. Trembling with excitement of this turn of events and the feeling of him on top of her like this, Belle shifts a little until he's cradled perfectly between her thighs.

"I  _want_ you Rumple. Please don't hold back?"

"I won't," he promises her. "I'll let you feel  _exactly_ what you do to me."


	12. Chapter 12

Despite his promise to let her feel what she's doing to him, right here and now, Rumple remains lying still on top of her. Given the slow progress of their physical relationship so far, Belle isn't all that surprised. His arousal still hot and heavy between her legs, she hardly minds either.

As they breathe in the same air between them, he places his hands protectively on the back of her neck and the small of her back, sparing her the main impact of the steps of the staircase they're still lying on. Each shift has delicious friction spreading all throughout them, leaving them gasping and smiling.

Bracing her legs on the lowest step for leverage for what hopefully is to come at long last, she looks up at the man she loves so very much. Her eyes are get more and more adjusted to the dark in the hallway of his home, allowing her to see the beautiful mix of excited love and lust on his face.

She basks in the anticipation of finally sharing more than kisses and caresses with him, thrilled that they've come this far. When he does press his mouth to hers again, the gesture is once more as chaste as can be, but she knows that, this time, it's the beginning of something more.

"Sweetheart, I was thinking..." he murmurs against her lips.

"What were you thinking?"

"The clasp of my belt. Is it hurting you? It might be digging into your skin."

"I barely feel it," she murmurs back, not certain whether she's endeared or slightly frustrating that they're talking about  _this_... that they're talking at all. "But you can always take your belt off? Your trousers too if you like? It will probably feel better for both of us."

"I... I'd rather not."

"That's perfectly fine. I understand."

"No, I mean... it's not that I don't want to take them off. The things is that I don't want to get off  _you_."

"I feel the same way," she breathes, once more marveling at how far they have come.

"But maybe we can loosen my belt and..."

"And push your trousers down a little without either of us having to get up," she offers, shivering deliciously at the prospect.

"Yes. If you like..."

"Oh, I do. Believe me, I like that very much. Would you like me to... right now?"

" _Yes_."

He pushes himself up on his arms and that's how Belle finds herself reaching for his belt, undoing it experimentally before pulling it out of its loops. When she questioningly reaches for the button and fly of his trousers as well, he nods his consent.

She carefully unbuttons his trousers, still damp from the rain, and unzips his fly. Not wanting herself to get entirely carried away, not yet at least, she doesn't give in to the temptation to let her hands wander. It allows her to push his trousers down his legs, just far enough to reveal his boxer shorts. No matter how much she longs to feel his bare skin against her own, this will do for the time being.

Belle ignores the urge to sneak her hand down lower yet and get better acquainted with the tantalizing weight and shape of him in the palm of her hand. Instead, she tells herself that it will be better yet to feel him between her thighs... especially if she gets another layer out of the way first.

"I'd like to pull up my skirt," she announces before he settles down back on top of her. "Would you also like me to..."

"Yes," he rasps before she has finished speaking, " _yes_."

Smiling, she pulls her skirt up to her waist. He may not be able to properly see it due to the lack of light, but the knowledge that she has at least partially bared herself is highly stimulating to both of them in its own right. Besides, he can _feel_ it, especially when she takes his hand and rests it on her thigh.

His breath shallow and fast, Rumple practically whimpers when he trails his fingertips tentatively along the edge of her underwear, from her hip to a mere inch from where she wants him the most. It's no surprise but slightly disappointing regardless that he doesn't move beyond the edge of the fabric, let alone venture underneath it.

But by now she's certain that they'll remedy that sooner rather than later, and that it'll be only more pleasurable if they continue to build up to it like they've been doing in the past few weeks.

"Are you certain that you don't mind me being... selfish?" he asks with delightful urgency when he settles himself between her legs again, his movements careful despite his obvious need.

"If anything, I'd say that it's selfish of  _me,_ wanting to hear and feel you like this," she gasps, reminding him of her own insistence for him to rub himself to completion against her.

"That's... I don't think that's selfish, Belle. Not  _at all."_

"Well then," she says, glad that he came to the same conclusion as she did. "Let's both be not selfish then?"

He nods fiercely, but pushes himself up once more. She doesn't understand why he does so until he hastily takes off his suit jacket and tie, pressing the expensive fabric into a ball which he places underneath her head like a cushion. He once more puts his left hand underneath the small of her back to protect it from the edge of the step underneath it, reaching for a newel post with his right.

Something low in her belly  _clenches_ at those actions, especially when she catches sight of his facial expression; for the first time utterly determined and very, _very_ aroused.

"You'll tell me if you want me to slow down or to stop?" he breathes.

"Of course," she says, only more eager and excited at the knowledge that he'll never do anything she doesn't like or is only slightly comfortable with.

The first thrust of his hips against the apex of her thigh is featherlight, tentative. Still, the light friction has him groaning, the sound in combination with the perfect pressure leaving her gasping. Doubtlessly encouraged by both their reactions, Rumple repeats the action, more firmly this time, to yet better results.

Belle trails her hands down his back, sliding them underneath his boxer shorts to grasp his buttocks in order to pull him more firmly against her. He makes a choking sound of sorts as he rocks into her stronger than before, leaving both of them crying out for each other.

His head falls to her shoulder and he presses his face against her neck, groaning his desire against her skin as he seeks his pleasure. She brings one of her hands to his head, carding it into his hair to encourage him further. At the same time, she shifts beneath him, until his hard length rubs against the most sensitive part of her as much as it can in this position.

The stairs are creaking beneath them as they cling to each other. She marvels at the way his movements become frantic, hardly coordinated at all, now that he nears his release. Belle is barely aware of the words of encouragement coming out of her mouth, but she savors each and every declaration of love and desire addressed to her.

There's an insistent throbbing between her legs now that Rumple finally allows himself to entirely let himself go in her arms, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter. For a moment, she wonders if she can actually reach her peak like this as well eventually. But there's too much clothing still between them, the angle isn't entirely right and it's clear that he can't go on for much longer.

The clothes and the angle clearly not holding  _him_ back, the landlord grinds into her two, three more times until he goes taut on top of her, his hips wholly instinctively jerking into hers. She cradles him yet closer to her and gasps in delight when he finally finds his long-denied release, collapsing in her arms with a primal grunt that almost undoes her after all.

Rumple embraces her, sloppily kissing her neck and throat as he catches his breath, still rubbing himself against her. She likes to think that she can feel the stickiness and warmth of his release through their underwear. As he relaxes on top of her, the flames inside of her diminish to smoldering embers, very pleasant in their own right.

"Oh,  _sweetheart_ ," he breathes, pushing himself up to be able to kiss her lips, with such tenderness and reverence that it almost brings tears to her eyes. "That was...  _amazing_. I... I can't thank you enough."

"You don't have to thank me," she replies, lovingly holding on to him as she savors the solidness of his satisfied body on top of hers.

"I think there's something you'd like me to do for you?" he suggests, looking expectantly at her. "Something you like which you can teach me?"

Belle shivers, which isn't solely caused by the eagerness that's still written all over his face, despite his recent release. Now that they aren't entirely caught up in their physical exploration of each other any longer, she's reminded that their clothes are still damp from the rain and the perspiration of their efforts – not to mention that they're lying on a staircase.

" _Definitely_ ," she grins, her body tingling all over again as she thinks of a  _very_ lovely way for the two of them to warm up. "How about we take a bath together and I'll teach you what your clever fingers can do for me?"

"A... bath?" he reacts, clearly not convinced... and mildly alarmed by the notion.

"A nice,  _hot_ bath, with lots of soap and bubbles," she clarifies, very much aware that he's probably still reluctant to entirely expose his body when he's with her. "We can light candles, if you like. We can go into the bath together. My back can be towards you, so you can hold me and get your hands  _all over me_."

She whispers the last three words for emphasis, the way his eyes widen and he nods fervently informing her of his approval before he hoarsely voices it.

"How about I go up to the bathroom to prepare things, and you join me in a short while?"

"Oh Belle, what did I ever do to deserve you?" he mutters, kissing her lightly.

"I'll take that as a yes," she smiles when he withdraws, right now not wanting to get into  _that_ conversation again.

Any other time, she is perfectly happy to tell him just how much she wants him, and why. Right now, however, she only wants to  _show_ him.

"You can definitely take that as a 'yes'," he says, looking at her in wonder.

"Good," she replies, lightly pushing against him to urge him to sit up, so she can get up herself. "I'll run the bath. Can you put some candles and matches by the door, and join me in ten minutes or so?"

"Oh yes," he says, sounding aroused again already. "I can't wait."

"Neither can I."

Belle smiles broadly as she heads towards the bathroom. Just like she hoped, the continued exploration of their physical intimacy has become a lot less stressful to him after their adventure on the staircase.


	13. Chapter 13

Gold knows that he should be nervous. Granted, he  _is_ practically shaking, but that's entirely due to anticipation and sheer desire caused by what it is to come. Glancing at the grandfather clock in the living room for the tenth time in half as many minutes, he reminds himself to remain  _calm_.

Belle will never cease to amaze him. After accepting him into her life in the fist place, which is miraculous in its own right, she let him seek his completion with her on the  _staircase_ of all places. And now, and  _now..._

He can only barely hold back a groan at the prospect of what is to come, at the highly arousing picture her words painted to him. The mere notion of taking a bath with her and having her teach him how to pleasure her is one thing, but to be actually on the verge of joining her in the bath which she's running...

Glancing at the clock again, barely resisting the urge to count down the remaining minute to the time she suggested for him to join her, the landlord straightens his clothing. Almost immediately, he realizes that there's no point. He doesn't  _have_ to look impeccable to Belle... in fact, he's quite certain by now that she  _likes_ seeing him so rumpled, especially because she herself is the cause for it – that  _she_ is the reason that his seed is staining his boxer shorts.

She won't even be able to see it immediately, his trousers back in place – for now – but she knows this as well as he does himself. He can't refrain from groaning into the silence of the living room when he thinks back on what they just shared, on the indescribable pleasure of finding the peak of his desire for her in her arms, with love and approval rather than rejection and disgust.

Unable to wait any longer, he heads for the stairs, lingering for a moment at the spot where he for the first time allowed her to see just how very much he wants her – where all of that desire and affection was welcomed and even reciprocated. The pain in his ankle, which clearly was overexerted as a result of their... unorthodox choice of location, is merely an afterthought.

Gold doesn't dare to fully think back just yet on the way he helplessly rutted against her, his cheeks flushing with arousal and embarrassment alike at the memory of how he selfishly chased his own release... and also because he finds himself twitching at the memory of it. It's been less than half an hour since he spent himself in her loving embrace, and he already wants more than the single instance with her which he previously only could have dreamed of.

Still, this time it's about  _her_ , about Belle's desire and satisfaction, as it should have been the first time... as it should  _always_ be. That heavy awareness is enough to belatedly inflame his nerves rather than his arousal, right when he reaches the closed door of the bathroom where Belle is awaiting him... possibly  _naked_.

Reminding himself to  _breathe_ , Gold knocks quietly, his heart beating rapidly in anticipation. When she welcomes him inside, he slowly opens the door, not knowing what to expect. As soon as he steps into the room and lays his eyes on her, he stands dead in his tracks.

He has the presence of mind to close the door behind him to keep the warmth in, although he vaguely doubts the wiseness of that decision when he realizes a few seconds later that his sudden inability to breathe properly is partly due to the fact that the bathroom is filled with steam.

Then again, he can't think at all when he spots Belle reclining in the bathtub which previously only he himself ever used. It's filled with very soapy water, just like she had said, preventing him from seeing all of her body. Still, the mere sight of her like this, shoulders and clavicle bare and her hair wet, makes very clear that she's naked in his bathtub.

Besides, as his eyes fly through the room to determine what else she has achieved here, the bra and panties strategically placed on the edge of the sink leave no doubt whatsoever about what she's wearing – or rather,  _not_ wearing – underneath the water.

"Hey," she greets him softly, smiling at him like some sort of angel.

"Hey," he rasps, belatedly realizing that she has lit the two dozen or so candles he brought here. They're placed on the edges of the tub and just about every other horizontal surface in the bathroom.

"Come and join me?"

She looks at him with such anticipation, such love. It feels like something out of... well, as if she made one of his fantasies come to life. In such worlds of make-believe he's a lot more suave and smooth than he actually is, but there's something about her gentle smile and bright eyes which persuades him that there's nothing to be afraid of in real life either.

"Yes," he breathes, beginning to unbutton his dress shirt without taking his eyes off her for even a second.

She bites her lips as she watches him with the same rapt attention. Her gaze alone is like a caress, right where he by now knows how very good it feels. He doesn't feel particularly self-conscious as he removes the shirt, revealing the and relatively tight cotton underneath, not even when he has to sit down on the purposefully placed chair to remove his shoes and socks.

"Tell me if you want me to look away," she says, her voice still so kind and understanding that he has to blink sudden tears away.

"I will," he replies, further reminded that there's nothing to be afraid of, that Belle is the complete opposite of his ex wife. "Thank you, sweetheart."

He takes off his trousers next, keeping a careful look on her expression. It shouldn't surprise him by now that she isn't disgusted by his slight and narrow frame, but it's a relief regardless when she simply beams at him when he undresses himself in front of her like this for the very first time.

When his only remaining clothes are his undershirt and boxer shorts, Gold halts his movements in hesitation, trying to decide baring which part of himself is less likely to disappoint her. His ex made clear enough that none of him is worthwhile and even remotely pleasant to look at, let alone touch, but by now he knows that Belle doesn't share that opinion at all.

Still, his chest  _is_ narrow and although the gauntness of his younger years is mostly undone by his bloating middle as he grew older, that's hardly more flattering. But of course, he'll hardly impress her with his manhood either. Despite the fact that he just spent himself, it's already hardening again in overeagerness at the prospect of sharing a bath with her and hopefully finding out exactly how she likes to be touched.

It's probably selfish of his body to be aching for her again so soon, right after she was so very generous to him. Besides, she might as well think that the sight of him half hard is yet more pathetic than when he's flaccid, for he doesn't get all  _that_ much bigger and...

"Come join me?" she asks again, her tone unmistakably hopeful.

He quickly looks back at her, finding that she's already glanced away from him, giving him the privacy his body language must have implied he needs. Not allowing himself to hesitate and doubt any longer, and inwardly grateful that she won't see him naked just yet, Gold quickly takes off his underwear.

He is grateful that she doesn't see him limp towards her either, out of habit not relying on his cane in the small room. Although she doesn't watch him, Belle shifts forwards in the tub, making room for him behind her. She also extends her arm to him, offering him something to hold on to in order to help him climb into the tub.

Getting over the edge of the bath tub over the slippery surfaces is tricky in any circumstances, let alone when the doubtlessly not endlessly patient, but very much limitlessly lovely Belle French is sitting in his bath, waiting for  _him_. Still, he manages to step into the tub without accident, carefully sitting down behind her.

Only when Gold has settled himself into the hot water, he dares to consider what might happen now. His lower half safely under water and his upper half practically invisible in all the steam, he feels secure enough to consider the fact that he's in bath with the woman he loves more than life itself, and that they're both  _naked._

After everything that she has done for him, this is his ultimate chance to prove to her that he can make this worthwhile for her, too.

This awareness is more than enough to cause him to panic, even before his ex wife and her new lover ruined any confidence he once may have had. After all, Belle has offered to teach him, which would make it yet worse if he doesn't live up to her expectations and ruin this beautiful chance she has given him.

"You're worrying again, aren't you?" she asks softly, looking at him from over her shoulder.

The sight of her, looking at him like this with a gentle smile on her face while they're in bath in a candle-lit room, leaves him frozen in its own right. The notion that Belle wants to be with him is still enough to make him lost in his own head, but now that they've reached the most intimate moment of their relationship so far...

"Let's just sit like this for a while?" he suggests, to his relief thinking of a way to get hopefully get slightly used to this at first.

"Of course," she says, smiling at him again. "It's lovely to sit like this, isn't it?"

"Oh yes," he rather breathlessly agrees.

The landlord has the courage to tentatively wrap his arms around her middle, gasping in delighted surprise when she leans back against his chest.

"I love that you're always so gentle with me, that you don't rush anything," she says, snuggling into him. "Granted, sometimes it's almost too much of a good thing. I also  _really_ like it when... well, when you are more forward with me, like today."

"You deserve the best. I can only hope that I can give that to you."

"You  _do_... and you don't seem to realize how much."

"I... it doesn't feel like I'm doing all that much, sweetheart. It's  _you_ who... you come up with these wonderful ideas," he says, gesturing around them as they sit in the pleasantly warm and romantically lit bathroom. " _You_ teach me things. I just... I'm more than happy and grateful that you encourage me to get along with all of that."

"Don't you see, Rumple? Your willingness to listen and experiment with me, rather than only doing what you want to do, whenever you want to do it, at whatever pace suits you... you aren't like that. Not at all. To find that in a man, let alone one I'm so very much attracted to... I didn't know that was possible for me. Until I met you."

"I..."

Gold has no idea what to say to that, never having thought that something which is self-evident to him appears to be so special to her. It makes no sense to him... unless this is about the man she was with before – the man she never talks about, although his ex wife is a frequent topic of their conversations.

"Sweetheart... did he hut you? Your former fiancé? Did he... did he  _force_ you?!"

"He didn't," she says, but her words don't reassure him entirely, for she tenses in his arms. "Not really. But he might have, in time. I'm... I'm just glad I got away from him."

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. If there's ever anything I can do for you regarding him..."

The landlord snarls when he thinks of someone treating anyone like this, let alone someone as kind and loving, not to mention petite, as Belle. The man she was once engaged to may not have physically hurt her, but between her lines his mind conjures an image of pressure and coercion which makes him hate the other man.

"Let's not talk about that right now," she says, reminding him that they're here to make her feel good, not to rake up bad memories from her past.

"You're right. Just know that we can talk about this another time, whenever you like."

"I know that," she says, leaning in to him to press her lips lightly against his.

He kisses her back, experimentally trailing his fingertips over her bare back as she relaxes in his embrace once more.

"Just so you know, I don't want to take things slow, Rumple," she says, breaking away from him in order to settle her back against his chest again. "Not anymore. Not with you. I trust you... I  _love_ you."

"I love you too, Belle. So very much."

He has known for quite some time how much he wants her... and yet more than that, how much he wants to make her feel as least as good as she does him. Now is the time to actually do so and, as Gold nuzzles her neck and tightens his hold on her, that hardly seems impossible any longer.


	14. Chapter 14

Belle can't decide whether she wants to keep her eyes open or not. On the one hand, she's rarely seen anything lovelier than the candle-lit bathroom of Rumple, especially now that the sight also includes his arms, wrapped lightly around her torso. On the other hand, she can focus yet more on the incredible sensations that he creates, simply by holding her like this, if she closes her eyelids.

Until recently, she couldn't imagine herself leaning back against an equally undressed Mr. Gold in his large and comfortable bathtub, not even when she was finding out that he is the opposite of the selfish and cruel man just about everyone else accuses him of being.

But here they are, and there's nowhere she'd rather be. For now, she decides to keep her eyes open, if only to reassure that all of this is real and not a dream.

All thoughts of her ex fiancé's impatience and disregard for her well-being, let alone her enjoyment, are driven to the back of her mind once more when she's with the man she actually loves and desires. It will probably never cease to amaze her that the mere brush of his lips against her damp neck has her shivering, that he's gotten into his bath with her for the sole purpose of pleasuring her.

Then of course, Rumple seems to find as much satisfaction in her pleasure as she does herself, which makes it yet better to enjoy all this with him in the first place.

"You know that I'll do whatever you like me to do, don't you?" he asks, the words whispering warmly against her skin.

"I know," she murmurs in response, finding that even this adds to arousal. "But let's just start like this."

Belle would very much like to tell him everything she'd like him to do for her, but at the same time she's curious to say the least what he'll come up with himself. He has pleasantly surprised her today, yet more so than usual, kissing her the way he did in the middle of Granny's and practically jumping her before they were even inside his house.

Merely thinking of it has her trembling, heat and liquid that's got nothing to do with the water in the bath gathering between her thighs at the question what else he might astonish her with. Especially now that they're actually alone and more ready than they've ever been to physically express their love for each other.

"So beautiful," he whispers, kissing her behind her ear.

She gasps, the skin there turning out to be much more sensitive than she knew it is. Tentative as always, Rumple repeats the action, and again, at the same time caressing her wet arms with ever so tender fingertips. Given the state she's already in, Belle has difficulty resisting the temptation to guide his hand between her legs right here and now.

That becomes somehow both yet more challenging and easier at the same time when he rests one of his hands on her stomach, moving it up slowly until his index finger is brushing against the swell of her breast. The underside of it too turns out to be more responsive to touch –  _his_ touch, at least – than she knew until now.

" _Sweetheart_ ," he gasps, as delightfully bewildered as she is herself.

Unable to contain her eagerness to at least some extent, she grabs both his hands in her own and firmly places them over her breasts, encouraging him to squeeze them none too gently. He almost  _sobs_ at the contact, his hips bucking into her rear in a seemingly wholly instinctive manner.

The reduced distance between their lower halves informs her that he's hard again, only further adding to her exhilaration. It's flattering to say the least to experience how his body reacts to hers and she is quite certain that this feeling is mutual when he palms her chest, pressing all of himself into her.

"Feels so good,'' he practically whimpers.

"Oh yes," she moans, pushing herself back into him for as far as she can, given the limited leverage which their current position in the bath tub offers them.

" _So good_."

She smiles even as she is unable to keep her eyes open after all, marveling at the way she reduces the usually so eloquent landlord to such short sentences, as the words he brings out can even be categorized as such. Of course, he makes her feel – and talk – exactly the same way, which makes it better yet.

Her hips move forwards, seeking friction without finding it. She lets out a sound of frustration despite herself, not quite knowing what's coming over her now that she finds herself considerable more aroused than she's ever been - before Rumple has barely touched her at all.

"What do you need?" he asks, his accent deliciously thick and his voice maddeningly low as he places his right hand on her thigh in a comforting gesture.

Words having fled her entirely, Belle can no longer refrain from grabbing his hand and unceremoniously guiding it between her thighs, spreading them as wide under the surface of the water as the edges of the tub allow her. The first pressure of his fingers pressing against her folds has her gasping.

"Oh," he says, experimentally beginning to explore her underneath the still opaque surface of water and soap.

His touches don't have any technique whatsoever – not  _yet,_ she reminds herself – but just having his fingers brush against her like this has her moaning. Encouraged, he touches her a bit more firmly, stroking along her folds until...

Belle  _shudders_ when his middle finger presses against the spot where her body longs for him the most. The light touch has jolts spreading throughout her, like electricity, her muscles going taut as pleasure she's never known before washes over her.

" _Oh_ ," Rumple repeats, this time sounding like a great secret has been revealed to him.

Given the history with his ex wife, it probably is.

She wants to ask him to repeat his motion, show him with her own fingers if necessary. But she can't move, can't say a word as her body, ablaze and amazed, is wordlessly begging for him to continue. But it turns out that she doesn't have to request anything, for he repeats the motion on his own accord.

Belle claws at the edges of the tub, needing something to hold on to as he stimulates her. She's oblivious to the sounds coming out of her mouth and the way she desperately moves with him to maximize the pressure of his fingers against her body.

It hardly matters, for she knows Rumple won't judge her. If anything, her inarticulate cries might actually be helpful, for his movements become more focused and precise with every moan and gasp.

She's spiraling higher than she's ever been before, with no limit of the pleasure he's giving her in sight. He whispers hotly in her ear and although the meaning of his words is mostly lost on her in this state, his encouragement and delight is clear, making her feel better yet.

The bliss within her is building insistently, growing and growing, until the point where she vaguely begins to wonder if there in fact can be too much of it. But right before the sensations become unbearably good, the combination of a purposeful flicker of his fingers against her most sensitive nerves and a delightfully enthusiastic squeeze of her breast has her finding her release.

Belle  _shrieks_ when he sends her flying over the edge like no one has ever done before, pleasure flooding all throughout her body – but nowhere nearly as insistently as where he is still rubbing devotedly. Her entire body is shaking and convulsing, and she collapses backwards in his arms and against his chest as the rush goes on and  _on._

She's got no idea how long it takes her to recover somewhat from the accumulation of bliss, only that she's never been remotely so much out of it. Still, it isn't even over yet, small sparks erupting from where Rumple turns out to be still gently touching her.

Her entire body is deliciously warm and heavy, but that doesn't stop her from getting up a little, so she can turn around in his arms and happily snuggle against his chest.

"That was  _amazing_ ," she tells him as he expectantly looks at her, in case there can be any doubt about how much she enjoyed herself.

Given the clear relief on his face, he was concerned to say the least after all. Smiling at him, she fully turns around in his embrace to kiss him lightly.

"Best I've ever had," she whispers against his lips, "and  _very_ much worth repeating."

"Right now?" he asks, before kissing her again.

Rather than replying immediately, she presses her tongue against his closed lips to coax him into opening his mouth. As she deepens their kiss but keeps her movements slow, kissing him like this feels yet better than before now that she's utterly sated.

Not to mention the fact that this is the first time that they kiss like this, eager and with both plenty of privacy and a comfortable surface right where they are. She shifts closer to him, managing to straddle him within the confines of the bath tub without breaking away from him for even a second.

Rumple tenses when he does so, breaking their kiss. She looks at him in confusion, not understanding why he's reacting like this – or at least, not until she belatedly notices that there was one part of him that, in a way, was tense before she got closer to him.

"We shouldn't... we probably shouldn't sit together like this if you'd like me to touch you again now, sweetheart. I... well, I find it rather difficult to focus and..."

Rather than distancing herself from him, Belle remains right where she is, kissing him again and making herself more comfortable in his lap.

"Because of this, you mean?" she asks, wriggling purposefully against his once more hardening flesh.

"Yes," he manages to bring out, his eyes shutting abruptly.

Her knowing smile turns into a gasp of delight when the friction has pleasure spreading throughout her all over again as well.

"This seems like a rather worthwhile point of focus, don't you think?" she suggest, cupping his face between her hands and kissing him lightly to remind him that she doesn't object – quite the opposite – to make him feel good again right now.

"I... I suppose so, sweetheart. But I won't be able to focus on  _you_  while you..."

"This isn't about exchanging favors, Rumple. We don't owe each other anything. You know that, don't you?"

"I... you're right. It's just... it's difficult to get used to."

"Well, we'll just have to keep working on that, won't we?" she teases, pressing her chest more firmly against his as she tightens her hold on him.

"Oh yes," he breathes, trailing his lips along the side of her neck.

"So how about we make you feel good again first?"

"I'm already feeling so good, sweetheart. Better than I've ever been. You know that, don't you?"

"I know for certain now," she whispers, rocking her hips lightly against his.

"But if you want to make me feel better yet..."

"I very much do. You know that, don't you?" she asks, echoing his question.

"I do now," he says as well, sounding much more convinced than before as he shyly smiles at her.

"Well then," she asks, shifting a little backwards in order to look at his face. "How might we achieve making you feel better yet?"

The delicious scenarios Belle has in mind are temporarily lost on her when she looks at him. The landlord looks so carefree and hopeful, so  _happy,_ that she almost doesn't recognize him for a second. Most of all, he looks  _loving_ , all of that adoration and desire for her – something she could very much get used to.

"Whatever you like," he says, his face beautifully flushed once more. "Maybe we could..."

Now Rumple is the one rubbing his lower half against hers, and she enthusiastically moves with him. She's more than happy to bring him to completion like this, knowing that it'll feel better yet than when they did so earlier this evening, on the staircase, now that both of them are completely undressed and more comfortable.

But as he lightly caresses her hand with one of his own, she gets another idea – which he might or might not have had himself, given the way he touches her.

"How about we try something new?" she asks, marveling at the prospect.

Rumple looks surprised and rather confused by that notion, giving her the impression that the way he touched her hand was wholly subconscious after all. She's determined to make this the last time that he doesn't know that there are other things they might share – and that she's  _very_ open tot he idea of doing said things.

Still looking rather bewildered, he nods eagerly regardless when she places her hand on his thigh, stroking his skin in the water. Following the movement with her gaze, she falters when she realizes that most of the soap has dissolved by now, enabling her to directly look at the part of him where she straddles him, previously invisible below the surface.

To her relief, he's still nodding when she looks back up at him. His cheeks are yet brighter red than before, indicating that he knows exactly what she was looking at and that he has no hesitance any longer about being seen like this.

It encourages her to questioningly move back a few inches, to take in the sight of him as much as she can through the water. He's clearly very eager for her again, straining towards her and wordlessly begging her to touch him. She eagerly licks her lips at the sight of him, heat pooling all over again between the part of herself that's still very close to him when she straddles him once more.

"Touch me?" he implores, making her more excited yet with the knowledge that she can admire him with more than just her eyes.

"Oh yes," she exclaims, moving her hand towards his length beneath the surface of the water.


	15. Chapter 15

Gold is barely able to believe what's happening, barely able to take in all of the sensations caused by Belle as they sit in his bathtub together. Well, she does do a whole lot more than sitting, her courageous hands sliding over his bare skin, slick with water, steam and perspiration.

She is merely brushing her hand along his inner thigh – for as far as there's anything 'merely' about that – but he is already all but bursting at the seams. Then again, he has been since she showed him on the staircase once and for all how welcome his feelings and desires for her are, sharing and returning each and every one of them; it's been like that since the moment they arrived at his house, really.

He can't help but close his eyes when she caresses his sensitive skin, no matter how much he would like to look at her and what she's doing for him. It's delightful enough to bask in her beauty and loveliness on any day, but to have visual confirmation that she wants to be with  _him,_ that _s_ he's pleasuring his undeserving being, is something else entirely.

So Gold doesn't take in the sight of her loving hands, her bare chest right in front of him. As it is, he clings to the edges of the tub for all he is worth in a vain attempt to ground himself when the love of his life makes him feel so much pleasure even before reaching the parts of him where her touch will be better yet.

"This is so good, Belle," he practically whimpers, more than ever before wanting to let her know exactly how wonderful she is making him feel.

"What about this?" she asks, whispering against the flushed skin of his neck.

He practically howls when she slides her hand upwards, brushing against the tip of his aching length. Rubbing his clothed lower half against hers like they did on the staircase may have been amazing already, but this,  _this_...

"Oh sweetheart," he rasps, closing his eyes yet more firmly as his hips buck into her touch on their own accord. "Please,  _please..."_

He's distantly aware that this plea won't be enough to request her to continue, if only because she, careful with him as she always is, will probably first want to make certain  _what_ exactly he's begging for, that the way she's overwhelming him is wholly positive.

No matter how thankful he is that she's always ensuring that she isn't accidentally doing anything he isn't comfortable with – not that she ever would - he's grateful as well that it takes only a heated look this time for her to realize what he wants after he opens his eyes after all.

There's such fire in her gaze, such sheer heat somehow caused by what she's doing for him, that there's no way he can continue to look at that magnificent brightness even before Belle lightly strokes her fingertips along the epicenter of his arousal again.

The sounds she draws from his mouth that way must be positively primal, but that doesn't deter her from continuing what she's doing. Neither does she seems to be bothered by how clear it must be that he won't last long at all, no matter how much he'd like to enjoy this for an endless amount of time... no matter how much he doesn't want to remind her of just how useless he is like that.

Still, he unmistakably hears her moan as well, as if she too somehow finds pleasure in this act. That fuels his desire yet further, bringing him right to the edge as it vaguely occurs to him that she's still barely touching him at all, that he would  _love_ to feel her hand actually wrapped around him.

But there's no chance of that happening when he's so far gone already, if Belle wants to touch him like that as well in the first place. If only he could last longer, if only...

"Would you like me to keep going like this?" she asks, drawing his attention back to the increased pace of her movements.

Just like that, Gold realizes that there's nothing 'if only' about being with Belle, not even in moments like this, when he can barely think straight and his arousal distracts him from just about everything else.

"Sweetheart, could you maybe..."

Then again, the knowledge that he  _can_ talk to her about these things, about his preferences, doesn't make it all that much less difficult to actually do so. He doesn't think it will ever get much easier to talk purposefully at all in moments like this, especially when he can't clearly envision, let alone formulate, what he wants in the first place.

"I can probably do what you like, but it helps if you tell me what it is," she says playfully, briefly kissing his lips.

"Could you... your hand? Around me?" he mutters, his entire face no doubt bright red with arousal and awkwardness.

"Like this?" she asks, as if he can reply in any way at all when she puts her fingers around him and  _strokes_.

Then again, the way his hips rock upwards without his permission, almost knocking her off him, is probably a clear response in its own right. Not to mention the practically animalistic sound coming out of his mouth as the pleasure she evokes makes everything she did for him so far pale in comparison.

"I take it that's a good sign?" she asks teasingly, kissing him again and straddling his thighs more strongly for good measure.

"Oh yes," he brings out, panting. Heat yet more demanding than that in his face is gathering where she's touching him, the accompanying sensations more insistent than anything he's ever known before. "Could you go a little slower, sweetheart? And more lightly?"

"Of course," she says, immediately loosening her grip on him. "Was it too much?"

"Too good," he murmurs, no longer reluctant to let her know so. "This is  _perfect_."

"Tell me if there's anything else?"

Gold can only nod when she strokes him again, the friction of it better than he ever imagined it could be. Prying his fingers off the edge of the tub, he embraces Belle instead, careful not to do so too tightly her as his whole body trembles and tightens.

He smiles against the skin of her throat between his groans, not too far gone yet to savor all of this. Even now that he's experiencing this, it seems almost unreal that such pleasure exists, let alone that he gets to receive it without mockery or demands.

"I love you so much," he has the presence of mind to tell her.

The way she echoes his words, kissing him more urgently than before, leaves him shaking almost as much as the consistent movement of her hand. He is panting, his hips constantly moving along with her now. Pressure is coiling low inside his belly more and more insistently; he probably wouldn't be able to let his body enjoy this much longer even if she were to stop touching him entirely now.

Luckily, she doesn't stop – like he by now knows she wouldn't, unless he wants her to do so. Holding her tightly and pressing his face against the side of her neck as his declarations of pleasure become louder and louder, the inevitable can't be hold off for much longer.

Idly wondering if he can actually explode in one way or another from all this, which suddenly doesn't feel all that unlikely, Gold clings to her for all he is worth. Nothing he ever did could have prepared him for this, but he senses exactly when all of this begins to reach its conclusion.

"Belle, sweetheart," he whimpers when the ever building pressure can't possibly seem to become yet more urgent. "Almost... I'm  _almost_ going to...  _please_..."

"I love you," she whispers again, right when stroking him more firmly again in response to his unspoken plea.

It takes only one, two more repeats of that utterly intoxicating motion until Gold truly can't hold back any longer. His entire body practically shaking until now, his muscles tense as he arches against her.

At the same time, his head slams backwards without his permission, despite the vague awareness that the unforgiving wall of his bathroom is right behind him. But rather than smashing against it, there's only yet more softness. It seems that Belle foresaw the potential injury and protectively shielded the back of his head with her free hand.

While doing so, she must have come yet closer to him, almost the entire front of her body now pressing firmly against his as he reaches his peak. The feeling of her soft belly brushing against him is what undoes him completely, his hips helplessly jerking upwards as he spends himself against her.

He blindly wraps his arms around her, sobbing her name against her neck at this cumulation of pleasure. Belle is still touching him, murmuring words of encouragement and love to him as she continues her ministrations.

Being held more tightly than he knew he could be, all Gold can do is let it all wash over him, not even trying this time to hold back the sounds coming from his lips. The way the tip of his length is brushing against her stomach adds yet further to the bliss that's filling him from head to toe.

It's almost terrifying, what all of this does to his body and mind alike, but he's completely relaxed as he gradually comes down from his highs. Although Belle has just seen him like no one ever has, as vulnerable and bare as he can possible be, he has never remotely felt safer and more loved in his life.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he whispers when he comes slightly back to himself, nuzzling her neck with his nose. "Thank you so much."

"You don't have to thank me," she says, mirroring his actions, prompting the already forming smile on his face to widen. "But you probably know that."

"I do," he sighs, more content than he knew he could be. "It's just... what you just did for me, what you made me feel... I don't have words for that."

"Well, you don't have to. Or maybe you will... sooner than you think."

Before he can open his eyes to take in the doubtlessly delightfully wicked expression on her face, Belle shifts her fingers, vividly reminding him that she's still touching him more intimately than he could have imagined until quite recently.

The notion that what she shows and teaches him can possibly include a whole new vocabulary in addition to the physical acts themselves, enabling him to properly express himself and understand her better, is an exciting one to say the least. But it's temporarily lost on Gold as she begins to touch him again, much more... thoroughly so than before.

His eyes widen in surprised delight when she simply continues, right after she has already been so very generous. He gasps sharply when she fondles him, reaching parts of him she didn't before. He may be softening after his release, even her clever hands not able to change that, but her touch feels incredible regardless.

"I didn't even get around to doing this the first time around," she says, managing to sound regretful and eager at the same time. "We can do so next time, if you like."

"I'd love to," he breathes, shivering at the prospect of getting to experience this again – possibly yet better than he just did. Then again, the only thing he should focus on right now is doing the same for her. It's the least he can do, after all, and it's not like it isn't highly enjoyable in its own right to pleasure her. "In the mean time, if you like me to, I can..."

His voice trails off, not quite knowing what to tell her, but there's nothing hesitant about his fingers as they brush questioningly along her thigh.

"I'd really like that. But the water is getting cold and I'm getting a bit sore from sitting here."

"Indeed," he agrees, realizing that he's not exactly comfortable any longer either now that the rush of what they just shared begins to wear off, if only slightly.

"Let's dry off and go to bed?"

"I'd like that. When we'd go to bed, would you like to sleep, or..."

"I'm very interested in  _sleeping_ with you," her teasing voice and hands telling him that she isn't referring to the type of activity which includes resting.

"So am I," he murmurs, burying his face in her damp curls with a smile. "So would you like to... tonight?"

The prospect of sharing yet more of this with Belle is still rather daunting, but not nearly as much so as even a few hours ago. Then again, he suddenly is rather sleepy after all this and the prospect of sleeping with her in his arms is yet more tempting than usual. Still, he must have sounded more tentative than the landlord thought, for she smiles reassuringly at him, placing both of her hands on his arms and kissing his mouth lightly.

"Well, you  _have_ quite worn me out," she says, sounding as if she couldn't be happier about that. "How about we go to sleep now and continue this when we're rested?"

"Sounds perfect," he says, sighing happily.

"Tonight isn't nearly the ending of this, Rumple," Belle says, smiling against his lips when she kisses him again. "The way I see it, it's only the very beginning."


	16. Chapter 16

Gold critically eyes himself in the mirror, not pleased by what he sees. Belle may have convinced him that she cares for him, that she _loves_ him, and that he isn't nearly as unlovable and undesirable as he thought. That doesn't change that he's... well, him.

Still, now that they have reached the point in their relationship where they are probably going to share more than kisses and strokes of hands on sensitive skin, self-doubt and loathing get the better of him once more.

But there's no changing his appearance, especially not now that she is waiting for him in his bedroom. All he can do is hope for the best – and not take his undershirt of just yet. Or at least, that's what he thinks before he takes a few calming breaths, like she would probably advice him to do if she were right here with him rather than on the other side of the door.

Gold reminds himself that Belle  _likes_ the way he looks, that she  _enjoys_ the way he makes her feel. It's beyond him how that's possible, but that doesn't change the fact that it is true. Moreover, there's nothing to be afraid of. And yet, when he opens the door to return to the bedroom – to  _Belle_  – his heart is in his throat.

His mouth falls open when he finds her sitting on his bed like there's nowhere she'd rather be. She wears something blue but mostly transparent, something which might as well be nothing. Belatedly realizing that he has left his cane in the bathroom, he limps towards her, sitting down heavily on the edge of the bed as he can't prevent his eyes from roaming all over her.

She is so beautiful that she's almost too much to look at. But before the landlord actually lowers his head in defeat at how wholly undeserving he is of her, Belle cradles his cheeks in her hands and kisses him softly.

"How are you feeling?" she asks when she breaks away.

"Nervous," he admits. "And you?"

"A little nervous as while. A good kind of nervous, though," she replies, smiling a little at him. "But mostly I'm very excited. I  _want_ this, Rumple. I want  _you_."

"I'm excited too," he says, returning her smile, her words reminding him that he feels the same way. "I  _want_  you, too. Very much."

"Good. Try to focus on that? And if you're afraid that doesn't work, just think of last week. That wasn't difficult or nerve-wracking, was it?"

"It wasn't, no," he replies, shivering with delight despite his nerves when he thinks back on the time they spent on the staircase and in the bath tub.

It seemed almost  _easy_  to be with her then, to please her. Exploring yet more with her might have not been all that difficult and terrifying too if they'd done so the same day, or the one after that.

But right when the landlord thought he couldn't be happier than he was, their attention was on the twists of the final part of Jones' trial. The man will be in jail for an unexpectedly but reassuringly long time, thanks to a variety of crimes, but the mere reminder of one of said crimes in particular kept him away from seeking Belle out in the past week.

Leave it to Jones to bother him immensely even when he's in custody.

"He's gone, Rumple," she says, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him against her in a gesture which calms him more than he thought anything could. "You don't have to worry about him anymore. There's nothing to be afraid of anymore."

"I know," he breathes, knowing as well as she does that the last statement has little to do with Jones. "I  _know_. Thank you, sweetheart, so much."

"Come here, you wonderful man."

He means to ask her what she's talking about, for he can't possibly get any closer to her than he already is, embracing her like this. But she shifts in his arm, smiling at him again before kissing him again, more firmly this time.

As always, her kisses make him forget about everything except his love and desire for her, and he returns it immediately. He may never understand it, but thanks to her never ceasing insistence that she loves him and everything they do together, he simply enjoys their nearness as much as he can.

Their kisses eventually grow deeper and more urgent than they've ever been before, but he halts when she lies back and means to pull him on top of her. She looks at him, panting, her lower lip caught between her teeth and fire in her eyes.

For the first time, he's truly convinced that she  _wants_ him,  _all_  of him, that this relationship isn't bound to end in humiliation and deep regret like his previous one. Belle is not his ex wife; she's the complete opposite.

"Let's get this off?" she asks, tugging questioningly at the hem of his undershirt.

Gold still can't believe that she will actually like what she will see that way, but he nods regardless. He carefully looks at her face when she properly sees his bare chest for the first time,when it's not on a grainy video or half covered by water, tensely awaiting her disappointment.

Somehow, however, her look of desire is unmistakable.

Both this and the accompanying, intense relief is somewhat lost on him when she begins to caress his chest, as if it isn't a miracle in its own right that she can look at him like this and enjoy what she sees.

Said caresses are luckily more convincing to him than anything else could ever be, and he finally loses himself entirely in her embrace. Her hands roaming over him and his own starting to venture along her sides and back, there's suddenly nothing easier than kissing her for all he is worth and settling himself between her invitingly spread thighs.

"Tell me what you'd like me to do?" he pants when they have to stop kissing for a moment to breathe in some much needed air.

Whereas his ex wife hated it when he asked her what she wanted him to do for her, Belle is very much unlike her in this regard as well. Of course,  _he_  would be very happy indeed to bury his head between her thighs and stay there for a very long time, but he has learned the hard way that this isn't exactly a foolproof method.

"Let me touch you again?" she whispers, trailing her fingertips along his inner thigh, pausing before she reaches the part of his body which is most desperate for her.

Gold is grateful that she doesn't actually touch him like that, for that would probably make him come undone right here and now, disgracing himself. He can't deny that Belle probably won't mind, that she probably knows other mutually enjoyable things they can explore together. But his own pleasure is entirely a given at this point, whereas hers is very much not.

"I'd love that, sweetheart. But first... let me try to please you?"

"You're already pleasing me. Very much so."

"Is there anything in particular you'd like me to do for you?" he asks, realizing that his first question wasn't nearly specific enough.

"I... well, there's one thing especially that I'd like to..."

"Name it?" he requests as she trails off, curious and bewildered alike that what she wants appears to make her somewhat reluctant.

"What you did for your ex wife in the video," she specifies, her face reddening. "I'd really like to... but feel very free to tell me if you're not comfortable with that."

He groans at the mere prospect of getting to touch Belle like this, of tasting her so intimately.

"I... I'd be  _very_ happy to do that for you," he replies, heat rushing through his own body as well, in both directions. "But... you saw the video. You know that what I do isn't actually... effective."

"Oh, Rumple," she sighs, embracing him again. "Nothing you possibly could have done would ever have pleased her. She didn't desire you, she didn't... But I do. I love you, I want you. And I might as well tell you that I've been...  _fantasizing_ about you doing  _that_ for me since the minute I saw the video."

His mouth falls open when he processes her confession, his eyes widening and probably darkening when it dawns on him that she's been desiring him  _all this time._

" _Sweetheart..."_

His last doubts vanished at last, Gold slants his lips over hers, the way she kisses him back with as much enthusiasm telling him that she knows how gladly he will do this. Although he once again would be very happy to keep kissing her like this for the rest of his life, he doesn't forget that there are yet more pleasurable activities to be pursued this time.

When he shifts himself to begin heading for his destination, she reaches for the last layer of fabric between their upper bodies. Before he knows it, he's greeted by the sight of her bare chest... of her bare  _everything_ , for it turns out that she wasn't wearing anything else underneath the mostly transparent fabric.

All rational considerations on how to make this good for her out of the window, the landlord blindly kisses and licks and nibbles each inch of soft and warm skin of her upper body he can reach, not allowing himself to even  _think_ of the lower half of her just yet.

Encouraged by the way she moans his name and tugs at his hair to keep him where she likes his attention the most, he can truly surrender himself to the experience without worrying about disappointing her or making a fool of himself.

Intoxicated by the taste and smell of her skin, by her gentle curves and wanton sounds, he almost forgets about his final goal altogether. But when he nuzzles and kisses her belly button, the scent of her arousal reaches him, reminding him what he wants to do the most.

Her legs already spread wide, Gold eagerly slides further down her body, groaning both because of the friction of his own arousal against the mattress and because of the sight which greets him when he reaches his new position between her legs.

His mouth waters when he finds her flushed and glistening. No longer thinking at all, entirely overcome now that they have reached this moment, he swipes the flat of his tongue along her folds.

Belle  _shrieks_ in response. Before he can wonder whether he has done something wrong, her voice pleads for more and her hands anchor themselves in his hair to push him more firmly against her. Happier than he has ever been, he continues his ministrations, growling against her as he samples her taste and explores her like this for the very first time.

In situations like this with his ex wife, he never quite knew what to do, but with Belle that's a different matter entirely. Even if it wouldn't be for her whispered suggestions and subtle tugs on his hair, the way she sighs and moans lets him know exactly which movements she likes and thus should be repeated.

Forgetting about his own arousal as he all but devours her, Gold is so happy to do this that he'd love to keep going for a long, long time – only for her to convulse yet more than she did so far and cry out his name when he's just getting started.

Only when she relaxes entirely and lets go of his hair, collapsing backwards onto the bed, it occurs to him what just may have happened. Looking up from his new favorite spot in the world, he finds her looking at him almost lazily, a huge smile on her face.

"That was  _amazing,_ " she sighs, reaching for his face to caress it.

Closing his eyes and leaning in to her touch, he rests his chin on her lower belly, her muscles quivering beneath it. Beyond thrilled – and relieved – by what just happened, Gold is finally truly starting to believe that all of this may not be doomed to be a horrible failure after all.


	17. Chapter 17

Belle is practically a boneless puddle by the time she comes somewhat back to herself, her entire being still trembling with what the love of her life just did for her. There was no doubt in her mind that Rumple would be able to make her feel very good indeed, but this,  _this_...

Glancing down her body, she finds him still right where he gave her such incredible pleasure, lightly kissing her upper thighs. She melts a little more when there's still no demand in his eyes, that it doesn't even occur to him to ask her to return the favor.

There's no doubt that the landlord is very much aroused; she currently may be able to see only his face and some of the – utterly delectable – back of his body, but his rapid breath, reddened face and the way he rocks his lips into the mattress leaves little to the imagination.

No matter how much she likes to languidly admire him like this, the lower half of his face glistening with the evidence of her satisfaction, there's something she'd yet rather do. Besides, he's still wearing his boxer shorts, and she  _really_ wants to see him fully naked at last.

Now the man who blackmailed and humiliated him is behind bars for a long time, and there is nothing stopping the two of them from continuing to get to know each other intimately...  _very_ intimately, for as far as she's concerned.

"Let's see if we can make a better version of the events in the second half of the video as well?"

For a moment, he looks doubtful again, but then he smiles at her. Thankfully, he has finally understood that she very much wants him and the way he makes her feel, unlike his ex wife.

Exhilarated at the prospect of finally making love with him, Belle reaches for the foil package and small bottle which she placed on the nightstand while he was in the bathroom.

"What are those?" he asks, sounding confused.

"They will help make this safe and more comfortable," she says, as always endeared by how innocent he is, especially now that she knows how incredible he can make her feel regardless. "Let me show you?"

When he nods and gets up to lie down at her side, she's momentarily distracted by the sight of him. She may have pleasured him with her hand before, she may have seen an old video of him naked with is ex wife, but this is the first time that she properly gets to see him – or at least, as much of him as his boxer shorts allow.

Rumple momentarily tenses when her eyes roam over him, but he relaxes again almost immediately when she smiles at him with lust and reassurance alike.

"You're beautiful," she breathes, caressing his thigh with one hand and his smooth chest with the other.

There's a hint of wetness in his eyes when he leans in to kiss her again. She pulls him on top of her, locking her arms and legs around him in a wordless attempt to show him how much she enjoys each and every part of him.

All thoughts of condoms and lubricant are forgotten when the landlord gently rocks into her like this, bare skin against bare skin except for the part of him that she's most eager for. But this is delightful in its own right and she basks in the sounds of his groans and gasps, the way his hardness moves against that still so very sensitive parts of her, which hasn't ceased to ache for him even after what he just did for her with his mouth.

They both shift and rub together until both of them are moaning, moving as if they are one. Just when she's starting to think that she might be able to find release again if they continue like this, Rumple pushes himself up on his arms and looks questioningly at her.

"You were going to show me something?"

"I was," she mutters after a few seconds, having been wholly lost in his embrace.

He looks at her expectantly, as if he's truly more curious about what she wants to show him than how they can make each other feel... which he clearly  _also_ wants very much.

"This is a condom," she says, carefully opening the package to show it to him.

She recalls that he and his ex wife didn't use any protection in the video, at least not of the visible kind – and that the other man she's been with herself tried just about everything he could to create a similar situation, whether she liked it or not.

"It's for protection?" he concludes, taking it from her with equally tentative fingers.

"Yes. To avoid pregnancies and diseases. It goes around..."

This time, he is the one blushing as she pointedly glances at the very present bulge at the front of his boxer shorts.

"And what's this for?" he asks rather hoarsely, gesturing at the bottle.

"Lubricant. It makes things easier, more slippery, when we..." she trails off, gesturing between the cores of their bodies again.

"I see," the landlord says breathlessly, almost as if he's  _eager_ rather than annoyed that she brought this up.

"I... I'm not sure we'll actually need it. There's no doubt in my mind that being with  _you_ will be a lot easier and more enjoyable than with..."

"Oh, Belle," he murmurs, his full attention back on her as he lightly caresses her side, the touch as comforting as his tone and meaning. "You know that I only want what pleases you, don't you? Just like you know that we don't  _have_ to do any of this, that I'd be perfectly happy to just lie with you here, or move together the way we just did."

"I know," she says, snuggling into him for a moment in sheer happiness. "And I love doing both these things. But for now... I'd really like to feel you inside of me."

"So do I, whenever you want me to," he replies thickly, looking at her with nerves but mostly unconcealed excitement on his face. "There's one more thing, though."

"You fear that I won't enjoy this," she concludes as his smiles falls.

"Yes. Not nearly as much as I did before, but... you know that I was hardly satisfactory for my ex wife. You've  _seen_ it. You've showed me that this is different, that  _we_ are different, and I believe that. But for the sake of honesty, I need to remind you that I hardly know what I'm doing. In fact, I don't even know how..."

His falters, more so than before at least, bowing his head in apparent shame.

"What is it?" she asks softly, embracing him from the side.

"I have to tell you that I don't even truly know how to get... well, how to  _get_ inside of you. And then I realized... I probably never did. I  _thought_ I did, but as I learned from the video... I never... I don't think I've ever actually made love to my ex wife."

"So... what you're saying..."

"I think... I think you'll be the first person I'm actually... well,  _with,_ " he says very softly, glancing at her from behind the curtain of his hair to gauge her reaction.

"I... that makes no difference to me whatsoever. If anything, I'd be very happy to be your first."

"I'd be very happy with that as well," he breathes, sounding rather excited again all of a sudden.

Just like that, they are embracing and kissing once more, and Belle enjoys this yet more now that she knows that she in all likelihood will be his first lover. It awakens a sense of possessiveness which she previously didn't know she had in her, but she can't help but decide that she rather likes the feeling, the prospect that she'll get to feel him in a way his unappreciative ex wife never had.

Soon, the landlord is rubbing himself against her again, panting, and fully aroused once more. She savors it, but not for too long, for there's something else she'd  _really_ like to try now.

"Let's make love?" she suggests,  _throbbing_ between her legs when he nods firmly in response.

"I'm going to have to take this off, haven't I?" he says, gesturing at his boxer shorts while he sits up at her side again.

"That would make things a lot easier, yes," she smiles at him.

"Well, it's only fair," he says, taking in the sight of her bare self again. "Although your view will not be nearly as pleasant as mine."

"That's not true, Rumple."

"Here goes nothing," he murmurs, clearly self-conscious, almost painfully so now that they've reached the point where he'll fully bare himself to her for the very first time.

He lies down on his back and pushes his boxer shorts down his legs with her assistance. Immediately, her gaze is drawn to where is finally revealed, hard and flushed.

"Beautiful," she says again, to her delight finding that he smiles faintly in response to the compliment, rather than disputing it. "Let's put the condom on?"

He nods in silent agreement and she does as she suggested, her fingers trembling when she carefully rolls the latex over his length. Belle purposefully touches him as little as possible while she does so, considering that he already looks like he's about to burst. Not that  _she_ would mind, but she's quite certain that the he himself would beat himself up over it.

"How do I..." he asks, gesturing at the lubricant she's entirely forgotten about herself, already all but dripping without added assistance.

"Spread this over the condom with your hand," she says, squirting a generous amount of liquid into his palm, just in case.

He flushes at the suggestion, which for all intends and purposes encourages him to pleasure himself right in front of her.

"I'd be very happy to do it for you," she says, her arousal increasing yet further as she watches him prepare himself.

"Let's try that another time," he murmurs as he touches himself as little as possible as well, even the slightest of contact leaving him gasping and rocking his hips into the air.

"I'm going to do the same for myself," she says, widening her legs so she can slide her fingers between them, if only to see the look on his face when she does so.

"Let me do that for you?" he asks hoarsely, reaching for her with already slippery fingers.

" _Yes_ ," she breathes, adding some more lubricant to them before she takes his wrist in her hand and lies down on her back, guiding his fingers towards her spread legs.

"Like this?" he asks, brushing his fingers against her folds.

"Yes. And if you use...  _another_ part of you," she gasps, momentarily glancing meaningfully at his hard length before returning her attention to his hand, "the... approach will be similar to this."

" _Thank you_ ," he murmurs, immediately understanding that she's also remedying his current lack of knowledge in this particular matter.

Belle is momentarily tempted to let him explore more, to guide him to the most sensitive part of herself, but she fears that it will take a whole lot longer that way until he's finally inside of her.

"Now just put one finger into me," she instructs him, still holding on to his wrist.

"Which one?"

"Let's start with your middle finger. Move it slowly inside of me, then pull back... and so on. That way, it will be easier for you to fit and move inside of me later on... and this feels good for me in its own right."

"It feels good for me too."

She leans back, confident that he will do what she requested. With her ex, there was always the considerable risk that he would try to take options and parts of her that weren't offered. But with Rumple... never.

"Oh,  _Belle_..." he murmurs in sheer reverence when he slides his finger into her for the very first time.

"Oh yes," she breathes, marveling at how easily he can do so, her body immediately and fully accommodating him. "Add your index finger?"

Again, he does as she suggested, and before long she is more than ready, wanting more of him than only his fingers. The landlord seems very happy to just continue like this, giving her pleasure while receiving none himself, but she is having no more of that.

"I want you inside of me," she whispers, delighted when Rumple nods eagerly in response.


	18. Chapter 18

"How do you want to do this, sweetheart?" Rumple asks hoarsely as he watches her intently, his eyes roaming over her as she sits in front of him.

Knowing that he can see  _exactly_ what he's doing to her, her body entirely bare and her legs still spread, makes her only more excited about the prospect of finally making love with him.

"I have no preferences," she says, her own gaze fixed on him in the same area where his gaze lingers on hers. "Do you?"

"I'd like to be really close to you, and look you in the eyes the whole time," he says, looking back up at her.

"Yes, I'd really like that as well. We could..."

Rather than telling him, she lies down on her back on the mattress, beckoning him over. When she spreads her legs again, he settles himself on his knees between them, looking at her with fire in his eyes.

"Like this?" he asks, getting on his elbows as well, bracing them next to her shoulders.

"Yes," she murmurs, placing both her hands on his sides to guide him down on top of her.

Both of them gasp when his body settles down atop of hers, his chest against hers and his hardness pressing snugly against the apex of her thighs. Their faces being as close together as they currently are as well, she can practically feel his sharp intake of air when she wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him more firmly against her.

"Oh,  _sweetheart_ ," he breathes at the increased contact, swallowing her moan at the consequent friction by kissing her again.

Belle smiles against his lips as he rocks his hips lightly into hers, while he seems very content just to kiss her even now. For the time being, she's happy indeed to stay exactly like this, their kisses yet better than usual now that each shift of their hips has pleasure shooting throughout her.

"I'd love to continue just like this," he asks after a while, the movements of his hips becoming slightly stronger and instinctive. "This feels  _incredible._ "

"How about we make it more incredible yet?" she suggests, questioningly reaching between their bodies.

"That would doubtlessly be better yet, yes," he says, lifting her hips to assist her.

Rumple clearly doesn't know how to proceed exactly, but what actually matters is that he is no longer reluctant to go forward altogether.

"Is it all right if I..." she asks, brushing his hip in such a way that makes clear to him that this isn't the final destination she has in mind.

He groans when she carefully takes him in hand, guiding him towards her. She sounds rather similar when the tip of his length brushes against her folds. Now that she has this chance, she rubs it against herself a few times, marveling at the slipperiness between them. Her lower lip caught between her teeth as she does so, she also basks in the jolts of pleasure spreading towards her and the heated look in his eyes.

"Move your hips forwards a little," she instructs as she positions him to the best of her abilities, needing more than this.

He does as she asked, but the angle isn't quite right yet. His face is flushed bright red, but to her relief there's no sign of tension or worse in his expression. She readjusts her grip and spreads her legs wider, that alone drawing another groan from him as his eyes flutter, and tries again.

This time, the landlord slides slowly and, all things considered, rather easily into her as he moves his hips again. Gasping her name, he nearly collapses on top of her as he does so. Belle clings to him and caresses his back, taking the time to get used to feeling his length and girth inside of her.

"How do you feel, sweetheart?" he asks, pushing himself up on his arms to look her in the eyes.

"Amazing," she whispers, touched by how careful and concerned he is even now. "We fit together  _really_ well, I'd say."

"Indeed," he replies, giving her a small, tender smile that almost brings tears to her eyes.

"I very much enjoy doing this with you," she adds, knowing that she doesn't have to say more for him to understand that he's the complete opposite of her former fiancé, that he doesn't have to worry about her well-being in this regard.

"It was never like this for me before," he replies softly, also not needing to verbally tell her that he never experienced anything like this with his ex wife... that she's truly his first.

"Do you want to try to move?" she asks, more than ready.

" _Yes_. But first, maybe we could..."

"What?"

"I'd like to... well, to see. Us. Connected like this."

"Oh! Well, of course!"

It wasn't exactly the request Belle expected, but as he pushes himself up on his arms to create some space between them, she's glad that he did. Both of them glance between their bodies, to the point where they're joined so intimately.

Yet more than the sight itself, its the look on his face when he focuses his eyes on her again which makes her very happy indeed. His smiles widens when she reacts in kind, and she can't help but laugh out loud in sheer joy. That reaction is apparently contagious, for rather than misinterpreting her laughter for mockery like he probably would have done before, Rumple joins her to the point that he's practically shaking with laughter above her.

"I love you  _so much_ ," she beams at him, even until a moment ago not having expected that making love to him would also be wonderful in this particular way.

"That feeling is entirely mutual, sweetheart."

She shifts a little, readjusting herself, still laughing with relief and happiness to be in this moment together like this. While doing so, she seems to clench muscles she didn't know she had, for he trembles above her suddenly for a reason that's got nothing to do with laughter.

"Does the suggestion for me to start moving still stand?" he asks, his voice deliciously rough.

" _Definitely."_

He nods fervently and does just that. His movements are experimental and she marvels at each tentative thrust and the accompanying looks on his face, at how smoothly he fits inside of her. After reading about it in books, she finally gets to experience this in a way which causes pleasure – and lots of it - rather than discomfort.

In fact, it all becomes better yet when he reaches for her breast, damp with her perspiration and his saliva from when he previously licked and suckled her to soaring ecstasy. The mere memory of that has her digging her nails into his back and arching into him, urging him on.

"You feel so wonderful," she whispers to him, before he might worry about not having been gentle enough or accidentally crushing her. "You  _are_ wonderful."

As if all of this isn't better yet than she could imagine, the landlord moves his hand from her chest to the juncture of her thighs, seeking the epicenter of her pleasure.

"You don't have to... especially not after what you just did with your mouth."

"I  _want_ to," he murmurs fiercely, as if nothing gives him greater bliss than her own. "Although I may have to ask for your help."

Belle is more than happy to guide his fingers to exactly the right spot at this implicit request, gasping against his mouth at the very first contact. He has gone entirely still inside of her, instead wholly focusing on the movement of his hand between her legs.

Between his manual efforts and his hard length remaining inside of her, the sweet pressure inside of her is building all over again. He whispers hotly to her, his intent tone clearer than his actual words as she kisses him sloppily in between words.

She clamps down on him as she's nearing the edge again, prompting him to continue thrusting, seemingly despite himself. The combined friction and the way he almost sobs his ecstasy against her damp skin has her reaching the boiling point.

The landlord doesn't last any longer himself and she shudders and spasms when she finds her peak right along with him. More than the physical sensations themselves, it's better yet to experience them right along with his, to feel him collapse on top of her as he jerks into her and repeats her name over and over again into the crook of her neck.

Slowly coming down from her high, she relaxes her grasp on his back, wondering if she's actually left prints of her nails on his skin. The worry that she might have accidentally hurt him in the throes of her passion vanishes almost as soon as it appears, for there's clearly only blissful enjoyment in the way he still lightly moves into her.

"Well, that wasn't so bad, was it?" she asks playfully, toying with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck.

The smile on her face falters in surprise when he pushes himself up to look her in the eyes again. Rumple looks so utterly relaxed, so  _happy,_ that she's momentarily taken aback by how different he looks like this.

Her smile returns when he beams at her in a way he has never done before, in a way she didn't know he could. She vaguely wonders whether this is what he's truly like, deep inside, beneath all the self-loathing and self-doubt she's pried away one layer at a time in the past few months.

"Did you also..." he starts, gesturing in the general direction of the spot where their bodies are still joined. "I think you did?"

"I definitely did."

"So we both..." he begins, as if he still can't entirely believe that the two of them got into this state of joy.

"Yes!" she exclaims, reaching for his face to touch the almost tangible radiance she finds there.

"I should probably..." he begins, gesturing at the same area again.

Belle nods, once again understanding him before he has said half a sentence. She immediately misses him when he slips outside of her, but she's convinced that he'll be right back where he fits so perfectly soon enough. She catches the condom before it makes a mess, disposing it in the bin which she conveniently placed next to the bed while he was changing in the en-suite bathroom.

"Come back here?" she requests, spreading her arms invitingly as he sits on his knees next to her, looking in utter awe at her bare and by now very satisfied form once more.

Rumple clearly was thinking along the same lines and happily settles himself between her thighs again, both of them groaning softly at the renewed contact. He kisses her with ever so reverent tenderness, his body covering hers almost like a blanket.

"I dare to say it will only get better from here on," she remarks as they end the kiss sooner than they'd like, both of them still rather breathless from their recent exertions.

"I'd like to think so, yes," he says, sounding more convinced about the positive future of their relationship than he's ever been before. "And what about right now, sweetheart? Is there anything else you'd like to do?"

"I'd really like to to go sleep in your arms," she says, even that prospect yet better than usual now that their first time being this intimate together went so well. "Unless there's anything else you'd like to do?"

"I wholly agree with your suggestion," he replies, looking as if could implement said suggestion right as they are.

"No matter how much I enjoy being like this with you, it's probably more practical if we... rearrange ourselves first," she says lightly, stroking his thighs where they're still cradled by her own.

"Of course," he says somewhat sheepishly, belatedly realizing that he's still on top of her.

It's a matter of moments until they're both on their sides on the bed, her back against his chest and his arm flung over her waist. His hand presses lightly against the curve of her breast after he has pulled the blankets over them.

His breathing is slow and deep even before he falls asleep, just like her own, his touches less doubtful than they've ever been. In that moment, Belle senses that he's finally truly at peace with himself and their relationship.


End file.
